


In Vino Veritas

by ClagJanetSMK



Series: Whine After Whiskey [2]
Category: Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domesticity, F/M, Grumpy Lee, Mild Drugging, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, The First Time, There Goes the Neighborhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClagJanetSMK/pseuds/ClagJanetSMK
Summary: Lee and Amanda adjust to life after their unexpected marriage but some adjustments prove more difficult than others.
Relationships: Amanda King/Lee Stetson
Series: Whine After Whiskey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629601
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. It Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> As always, the characters remain the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Enterprises.
> 
> This one will make no sense without having read "Whine After Whiskey".

The sun was still below the horizon when they arrived back at Maplewood Drive, both of them stiff from sitting in the plane overnight on top of their aches and bruises from the crash the day before. Fortunately, the flight had been mostly empty and they'd had a row of three seats to themselves, which allowed Lee to stretch out sideways and for Amanda to curl up against him in the circle of his arms as they'd dozed most of the way home.

They hadn't talked a lot from the time the plane had landed or during the drive back to Amanda's, a combination of exhaustion and sudden shyness at where they found themselves – married on less than a few hours' drunken acquaintance and an impulsive decision to see where that would lead them.

When Lee pulled the Porsche up to the curb, the silence was slightly more awkward though as he walked around to help her out of the car and carry her overnight bag to the door. They stopped on the doorstep, hands entwined and both blushing slightly, uncertain what to say.

"I guess I should thank you for such an interesting second date," Amanda finally teased and watched his posture relax as he grinned.

"You can't say I don't know how to show a girl a good time," he quipped.

"And I've got the bruises to prove it," laughed Amanda, reaching out to touch his arm when his smile dimmed fractionally and his eyes dropped to where the scrapes of yesterday's adventures were still evident across her hands. "And I'll be good as new in a few days."

Lee looked up to meet her eyes with a wry expression. "Helluva way to try and impress a girl. How am I going to top that on our third date?"

"Well, we've already explored the usual third-date option, so it'll have to be spectacular," she chuckled.

"I'm not sure it can be more spectacular than the usual third-date option." Lee lowered his head to kiss her neck. "We are spectacularly good together."

"Are we? Remind me…" she replied, dropping her head back to allow him easier access.

"And besides, it won't be me you have to impress" she went on a few minutes later, when they finally came up for breath. "It's Phillip and Jamie, so just showing up with a pizza or Marvin's burgers will probably do the trick."

"That does sound calmer," he agreed. "Would tonight be too soon?" He'd unconsciously tightened his grip on her hands.

"No, I think that would be fine… oh no." She went still and her expression turned serious.

"What's the matter?" he asked, concerned at the abrupt change.

"Dean," she replied.

"What's the problem with Dean? You were going to break up with him anyway – right?" he said tentatively

"Well, I kind of have to, now that I'm married to someone else, don't you think?" she asked, the smile back in her voice. "And yes, I am but I haven't yet and that's not right. I mean, it hardly counts if we're broken up and I'm the only one who knows it, does it? So I need to talk to him first – before I introduce you to the boys because it wouldn't be fair to him or to them not to have all that cleared up and everything out in the open before you meet them – they're only eight and ten years old and it would be so confusing."

Lee nodded. "I can see that." He paused and drew her back into his arms, resting his cheek against her hair. "So tomorrow night then?" he asked.

"Lee!" she could contain the gurgle of laughter and leaned back to kiss him lightly. "What happened to 'let's not rush into anything'?"

"Okay, okay," he answered. "So I have an impulse for instant gratification – sue me."

"That's probably what got us into this mess," she teased, twisting the lapel of his jacket into her finger.

"It is kind of a mess, isn't it?" he said in a wistful tone. "I'm sorry about that."

"Well, messes can always be tidied up – just ask my boys."

"And when will I get to do that?" he smiled at her.

"First things first," she said firmly. "First Dean, then Phillip and Jamie."

"What about your mother?" he asked.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Oh that's a whole mess on its own. I hate to lie to her but she'll never believe we went all that way and _didn't_ apply for the annulment!"

"Won't she?" Hazel eyes twinkled down at her in the porchlight, so bright she momentarily got lost in them, before starting to laugh.

"Actually she totally would… but she'll also totally approve!"

Lee sighed and looked at his watch. "You better get inside – and I better get showered and changed and be ready to go tell my boss all about this."

"All about it?"

"Maybe not all of it," he grimaced. "The thing is…" he looked at her apologetically. "I'm going to need you to come down there and give a statement too. It was kind of a trade-off for getting us out of Vegas so quickly."

"Well, that's not a problem – when will you need me?"

"Tell you what, I'll stonewall Billy for today – play up the aches and bruises from the crash and stress how traumatized you are, as a poor unsuspecting civilian," he paused as Amanda let out a snort. "A poor unsuspecting civilian," he repeated, "Caught up in international intrigue and held against her will…"

"Ah yes, the handcuffs…" she murmured, running her fingers over his wrist where the cuff had been just a few days before.

Lee cocked a wide grin at her. "Anyway, I'm sure I can get him to put it off until tomorrow, so you can get some sleep and spend some time with your kids."

"Okay, that would be good actually. Who knows what I'd say in the middle of a spy interrogation when I'm this tired?" She snuggled into his chest and gave a yawn.

Lee squeezed her gently. "Okay, first, we don't really use the word 'spy' and second, it's not going to be an interrogation since you aren't the one who did anything wrong. It will just be a simple statement of fact provided to a very grateful intelligence agency."

"Um hmm," she agreed, still leaning sleepily into him. "I was just in Vegas trying to get divorced from a man I married in a drunken fling and got kidnapped by Russians. Perfectly simple."

Lee couldn't hold in the chuckle. "Well, we definitely need to come up with a better story for the first part of that."

"Better than the truth?" she asked, lifting her head.

"Just a slightly shady version of the truth," he replied. "One that you can tell your friends and children and that I can also tell my very suspicious boss."

"Oh yeah, I see what you mean," she said, wrinkling her nose at him. "I'd have to step down as den mother if they found out how we really met. Harper Valley PTA doesn't hold a candle to us."

"And maybe, well…" he started, then paused, not sure how she'd react. "Maybe _not_ mention the marriage part?" he rushed on as her eyes widened. "Not because I'm ashamed of marrying you or anything but it would be hard to explain without looking…"

"Like idiots?" she filled in with a smile. "Oh yeah, I don't think anyone needs to know that little secret just yet."

"Oh good," he breathed out a sigh of relief. "I mean, we can just tell my boss that you were someone I picked up in the bar and the whole wife thing was a misunderstanding…" He met her direct gaze again, and the way the smile chased across her lips. "Still my best idea ever though," he added as he lowered his head to kiss her again.

Finally though, Amanda pulled away with another yawn. "I'm sorry – it's not you, it's my complete lack of sleep, honest."

"And the shock setting in a bit," he agreed. "You get inside and see your boys and I'll call you later."

Amanda grimaced again. "Yeah, maybe a lot later? I should see Dean tonight and clear the air there."

"Yeah, okay." Lee turned to leave, then swung back around to grab her hand and pull her in for another kiss. "But not a _lot_ later. Otherwise I'll have to worry that he'll talk you into going back to him."

Amanda's deep chuckle huffed out. "Well, then I'd just have to tell him I'm a happily married woman and he's out of luck."

"Happily married?" Lee couldn't help asking.

"So far, so good," answered Amanda with mock solemnity, which she ruined a second later when she tipped up on her toes to kiss him again. "Now scoot."

"Yes, Dear."

"See? You're learning already."

She waved him off, then turned to let herself quietly into the house. Dotty came out of the kitchen bearing a large cup of coffee as she stepped down into the family room.

"Thank goodness! I thought I was going to have to turn the front porch lights off and on a few times like your father used to do," she quipped, holding out the steaming mug. "You look exhausted, Darling… good trip?" Her eyes were twinkling with mischief as she surveyed her daughter.

"Oh Mother, stop" sighed Amanda. She pulled off her coat without thinking and watched her mother's expression turn from teasing to horrified at the bruises and cuts she'd revealed.

"Oh Darling – I thought you said it was just a little car accident!" said Dotty, putting down the coffee and rushing forward to grip her wrists to study the marks more closely.

"Mother, I'm fine! Stop worrying," said Amanda neatly sidestepping around not admitting that it had actually been a fairly violent plane crash – and that she'd been the pilot. "That coffee looks so good right now though – I didn't get much sleep on the plane home."

"Of course you didn't," replied Dotty instantly. "Who could sleep when they could sit and stare at Lee Stetson for a few hours instead?"

"Mother!"

Dotty shrugged innocently. "I'm just saying, Amanda… he's very handsome."

Amanda's lips twitched. "Yes he is, isn't he?" Her smile broadened at the way her mother beamed back.

"But you got the whole annulment thing sorted out?" asked Dotty, turning to walk back and pour her own coffee.

"Pretty much," answered Amanda evasively, lifting the mug to her face to try and cover the white lie.

It did no good. Dotty paused with the coffee pot still in mid-air. "Amanda? You did file for the annulment, didn't you? I mean… that's why you went all the way back to Vegas!"

"We-ell," Amanda hedged. "We meant to… we really did… but then we had the accident before we could get there… and then in all the excitement, we kind of forgot to actually do it before we flew home." The crazy part, she thought, was that everything she'd said was actually the _truth_. She needn't have worried – Dotty's face almost split in half with a delighted smile.

"So I still have a son-in-law?" she asked. "You aren't going to get it annulled?"

"I didn't say that!" said Amanda quickly. "We just need to do it from here after all, so it might take a little longer and I mean…" She decided to take the plunge. "We thought that maybe in the meantime we could… ummm… date?"

There was a silence and then Dotty gave a crow of laughter. "Oh Amanda, my darling – how marvellous! It's like one of my novels!"

Amanda sagged into one of the kitchen chairs. "You can't say anything to anyone, Mother! I mean, not just because it would be embarrassing but also… I don't want the boys to know. I haven't even broken up with Dean yet-." She paused as Dotty gave another snort of laughter. "You know what I mean – and I want Phillip and Jamie to meet him and for us all to get to know each other better. After all, it might not go anywhere…"

"Says the woman who just spent twenty minutes on the doorstep saying goodbye to her new husband," replied her mother. "But you're quite right, of course. They'd never understand and no one else needs to know the inside information of your relationship." She took a long sip from her coffee, then gave Amanda a bright smile. "But you never said I couldn't enjoy boasting about your handsome new beau to my friends!"

"Mother!"


	2. Hangover Remedy

"You look like hell, Scarecrow."

"Gee, thanks, Billy. It's nice to see you too."

Billy surveyed the man in front of him carefully. It was hard to assess any damage from yesterday's plane crash when Lee was in his usual three-piece suit, but there was no mistaking the dark shadows under his eyes and the vivid bruise across his cheek that he must have gotten during the impact.

"It _is_ nice to see you, Lee," he said gruffly. "We've lost enough agents lately – it's good to see you back in one piece."

"I'll admit it was a pretty close-run thing," said Lee, running his hand over the back of his head as he dropped into a chair opposite Billy's desk. "Volkov almost had me on a plane to God knows where. I'm still not sure if he really wanted to use me for a trade for his brother. I had the feeling he was just as likely to push me out an open door at 15,000 feet."

"But he didn't" replied Billy. "So you want to tell me the whole story – including this mysterious wife you seem to have acquired along the way?"

Lee winced slightly and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Ah, well, that was all a bit of a misunderstanding…"

"Really?" Billy was enjoying watching Lee's discomfort. "Would that misunderstanding have anything to do with why you needed to take an extra few days off work?"

"A little bit, yeah." Lee leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands, steepled in front of him

Billy watched as Lee gathered his thoughts, obviously trying to put the best possible spin on what had no doubt been a typical Vegas one-night stand.

"Ah, see… Amanda and I met in a bar a few nights ago and we got to talking and somehow the conversation just kept going, all the way back to my room." Lee looked up at Billy's knowing snort and grimaced. "And we fell asleep and when she left in the morning, she accidentally left some important paperwork behind, so I had to miss my flight to try and find her to return it."

"Very conscientious of you," remarked Billy, lips twitching.

Lee shot him a look, then shifted again and continued. "Anyway she wasn't staying at the same hotel, so it took me a while to track her down."

"Uh huh. Good thing you're a trained intelligence agent or you might still be there."

"Yeah. So she came to collect it and that's why she was in my room when Volkov showed up. She really was just an innocent bystander."

Billy gestured to the file in front of him. "And yet, this all seems to suggest that she's the one who saved you both."

To his amusement, Lee's face lit up. "She really did, Billy. She had a chance to run and you know what she did? Ran straight at the plane and tried to fight off Volkov to pull me out of there."

"Sounds like quite a woman."

"She is."

"And she did all that on the basis of two days' acquaintance?" Billy could sense there was more to the story than Lee was telling him, but couldn't quite place his finger on it. "And why do all the police reports say she's your wife?"

"Who knows?" Lee shrugged. "Volkov assumed she was, for some reason- maybe he's seen too many Vegas movies. And then the cops did the same thing. And as for her rushing in to help? Well you know how it is, Billy. You just act on instinct sometimes... fools rush in, that kind of thing."

"Well I'm looking forward to meeting her. When is she coming in to make her statement?"

"I, uh, told her we didn't need it until tomorrow," Lee hedged. "I mean, you have all the reports and hers is just extra right? She was so tired from everything and the overnight flight home…"

Billy glanced at the file. "Yes, I'm sure that will be fine since we have a preliminary statement anyway. In fact, once you're medically cleared, why don't you head home and get some sleep too? I'm going to need you back in shape to help with the current case."

"Oh come on, Billy! I just got home, for crying out loud! What's so urgent that you need me back at it already?"

Billy picked up a file and held it out. "Sam Fielding was killed last night – that's two agents in two days."

"Seriously?" Lee was all business now as he took the file and flipped through it. "And we have no idea who made the hit?"

"None." Billy sighed. "I want you on this, but I need you at 100%. Go down to Medical and get yourself checked out." He held up a hand as Lee began to protest. "That's an order. We have enough agents on this for now – I want to see you get an all-clear before I put you on this – and that means an actual report from downstairs, not just your say-so, am I clear?"

Lee opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to come up with a good argument before finally sagging and giving in. "Fine." He stood up and started to leave, stopping only when Billy began to speak again, laughter audible in his voice.

"And tomorrow, I'll personally conduct Amanda King's statement interview."

"Personally? Why?" asked Lee, nervously.

Billy leaned back in his chair, hands resting on his chest. "Because I want to meet the woman that you described – and I quote – as 'amazing and I'm going to love her'."

"Oh come on, Billy, I was tired! I was just exaggerating so you'd get us out of there faster."

"Oh I don't know – the police sergeant at the scene was pretty complimentary too. She sounds fascinating."

"She's…" Lee searched for a word that wasn't insulting but would make Billy lose interest. "Just someone who was in the wrong place at the right time," he finished lamely. "You'll see when we interview her tomorrow – just a regular civilian."

"When _we_ interview her? Oh no, you won't be there," said Billy, working hard to keep his face straight at the flash of panic on Lee's face. "Internal Affairs would have my head if it looked like the agent involved was in the room coaching the witness."

"IA is involved?" asked Lee in a strangled voice.

"Of course they are – an agent was involved in a very mysterious kidnapping attempt in a city he should no longer have been in. Dirk is rubbing his little hands together with glee."

"But I captured Volkov!" complained Lee

"Well, I'm sure that will all be taken into consideration," replied Billy, idly wondering how long he could keep yanking this chain before Lee snapped. "Okay, Scarecrow, Medical. Now." He pointed at the door.

"Yes, Sir," said Lee, trudging out as if he was going to his own execution.


	3. Days of Wine and Rose Bushes

"So you see, Dean, I just don't think we were ever really meant to be," said Amanda, gently.

Her mother had diplomatically taken the boys out for ice cream after dinner and it was only now, seeing his reaction that Amanda realized with consternation that Dean had assumed she'd done that to give Amanda time to accept his proposal.

"But I want to _marry_ you! You know that! I've asked you over and over! My mother has been planning to have us over for dinner!" Dean was agitated, which was fair since he really had had no idea this break-up was coming. It was a warm evening – Amanda had the French doors open as well as the kitchen window to let in the gentle breezes of an Indian summer night – but even that didn't explain the sheen of perspiration on Dean's forehead. She wondered with some concern if he was having an anxiety attack.

"I know you have," answered Amanda, still in that soft voice. "But don't you think it was a bad sign that I could never give you an answer? I mean, I like you, Dean, I really do. You're sweet, and romantic and generous and loving – you're just a perfect guy." She leaned over and put her hand over his. "Perfect for someone else but not for me, I'm sorry."

Dean was flushed darker now with a mix of embarrassment and disappointment. "But why, Amanda? Your mother likes me! We talk all the time! She's like a second mom to me! And your boys… your boys need a male role model in their lives, you know that! I mean, it's all very well the way you try and be both mother and father to them with your coaching and den mothering and whatnot but…" He trailed off in the face of the steely glint that had come into Amanda's eye.

"My boys are doing just fine, Dean," she said, all the gentleness gone from her voice now. "And I'm sure my mother will be happy to stay friends with you provided this all stays amicable. You could even still come for Sunday dinner sometime." She tamped down the sudden desire to laugh as she remembered her mother suggesting Lee could do the same just a few days before.

"You really mean it," Dean said sadly. "You're really breaking up with me."

"Yes, I am." Amanda squeezed his hand gently. "And I'm really sorry."

"Is there someone else?" he asked suddenly. "Did you meet someone on that trip? Is that why you were late coming back?"

"Did I meet someone on my trip?" Amanda repeated. "Well, I don't think I like the way you immediately leapt to _that_ conclusion, but truthfully, I knew before I went away that I wasn't going to be able to accept your proposal and the time away just made me more certain." It wasn't a complete lie – she _had_ already decided to break up with him before she'd ended up in an all-night wedding chapel with Lee after all.

In the long silence that followed, Amanda could hear the sounds of her mother and the boys coming back up the driveway. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked Dean. "Do you want some time alone to say good-bye to the boys?"

"No, I don't think so. I think a fast clean break would be better, don't you? Like ripping off a Band-Aid," he said, standing up and heading for the front door. "Yes. Definitely."

"You're just going to walk out and never see them again?" she asked in disbelief, leaping to her feet to follow him. "They're only young boys – they won't understand if you just leave!"

"Well, you should have thought about that before you led me on all this time, shouldn't you?"

"Dean – you're seriously going to punish them for my mistake?"

"No, _I'm_ not," he paused at the door. "Your mistake, your punishment. Goodbye Amanda." And with that he stalked out, slamming the front door behind him.

"Well!" gasped Amanda. "Goodbye and good riddance to you too! That kind of male role model they can do without!"

She walked back to the kitchen to greet her family as they came in the back door.

"Is Mr. Maguire gone already?" asked Jamie, looking around in confusion. "We brought him an ice cream bar."

"Yes, Sweetheart, he's gone." Amanda crouched in front of her youngest son. "He and I decided that maybe we shouldn't date anymore so he went home early."

"Oh," said Jamie. "Good."

"Yeah. Can I have his ice cream?" asked Phillip.

"Now wait a minute, what do you mean 'good'?" asked Amanda as Dotty smothered a laugh.

"He was nice and everything," shrugged Jamie, "but he was always kind of talking to us like Mr. Daniels does."

"Mr. Daniels, your principal?" Amanda prompted.

"Yeah," Phillip nodded. "He always talks to us like he wants to be our friend but he's trying too hard to sound interested. And then it always turns into him telling us something about what kind of clouds those are, like everything always had to be a _learning experience_." The way his voice dropped on the last two words told Amanda exactly how often Dean must have used that phrase and she covered her mouth to hide her smile.

"Well, how about we take the ice cream bar and cut it in half then?" smiled Dotty. "No point in it going to waste, after all." She pointed the boys at the kitchen and looked up to meet Amanda's eyes, her own twinkling with mischief. "And you should probably check the garden," she commented. "I'm sure I saw the Fergusons' dog running around out there when we came around the back of the house."

Amanda lifted her brow questioningly. "Really?"

Dotty nodded toward the open French doors. "Go look for yourself."

Amanda moved slowly out the door, with one look back at her mother who made a shooing motion at her. Stepping out into the dark, she peered around trying to see Muttley, stifling a giggle when she realized what she was seeing in the dim light.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked with amusement as Lee straightened up from where he'd been hiding behind the rose bushes.

"You said later, this is later," he answered sheepishly.

"How long have you been out here?" she asked, walking forward to slide her hands up his chest.

"Long enough to hear Dan the Doofus make an undignified exit," he scoffed, before pulling her in for a light kiss.

"Now wait just a gosh-darned minute! You were _spying_? On _me_?" she asked in mock outrage.

"We-ell, you know we don't like the word spy…" he began, then twisted away as she lowered her hands to jab him in the stomach. "Hey, quit it!" he complained, backing away from a pursuing Amanda, batting her hands away as she followed him, not stopping at all.

"I. Can. Not. Believe. You. Were. Spying. On. _Me_!" Amanda continued to poke him in counterpoint to her words.

"I wasn't spying!" he defended himself, finally managing to grab her hands and stop her assault. "I just stopped by to make sure you were feeling okay after everything that happened yesterday," he went on trying to sound virtuous.

"And you could see that from your hiding spot in the rose bushes?" she mocked him.

"I tried the gazebo but I couldn't hear you from there," he grinned as she huffed with laughter. "What did you ever see in that guy? Your entire dinner conversation was all about him and his stupid speech about tornado predictions and he managed to make tornadoes sound boring!"

"Our entire dinner conversation?" asked Amanda in disbelief. "What were you doing? Sitting under the dining room window the whole time?" She started to laugh when Lee grimaced slightly at being caught out. "Oh Lee, honestly!"

"Well I wouldn't have bothered if I'd known what my competition was like," he admitted.

"Better be careful – you're starting to sound like a jealous person."

"I'm not jealous – not of that guy anyway. From out here it looked like Dick lived up to his name and burned some bridges on his way out," he grinned. He let go of her hands and ran his own up her arms, suddenly serious. "But the real reason I came by is… I just wanted… the thing is… I had to go do a mandatory physical after I got back and the doc asked me if I needed to talk to a shrink like they always do after we've been through something violent on the job and I realized, I mean… are you ok? Do you need to talk to anyone?"

"Oh!" Amanda was touched by his concern. "Well, I can talk to you, can't I?"

"Well of course you can," Lee exclaimed. "I just meant… someone professional. Things like that… what we went through, what you saw…" he paused and watched her nod, swallowing slightly at the memory. "Things like that can be hard to deal with, if you don't have someone to help you through them."

"Oh, well, I have you," said Amanda, stepping closer into him. "And I have them." She nodded past him to the windows of the house where they could see Dotty and the boys starting to clear up the dinner dishes. "That's all I ever need, really."

"You do, don't you?" Lee was looking somewhat wistful, watching her family. "But if you do need anything, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course," she nodded. "I, um… I should be getting back in before the boys try to come help me catch Muttley." She cast another look at the house. "I'd invite you in, but…"

"Too soon, I get it," he nodded. "But maybe in a few days?" When she nodded, his grin was bright even in the dim light of the garden. "Oh, I almost forgot…" he moved back and pulled out a small card from his pocket. "This is the address for IFF – Billy will be waiting to interview you tomorrow afternoon."

"Billy, your boss?" Amanda looked down at the card, then back up. "Will you be there too?"

Lee grimaced. "No – I can't be there because I was involved but you'll be fine. Just tell him exactly what happened." Amanda still looked worried and he ran his hands up her arms again, ducking down to look into her eyes. "Hey, don't worry – he's a really nice guy and you didn't do anything wrong, remember? You're just making a witness statement."

"Yeah," she agreed, taking a deep breath and straightening up. "Then why do I feel like I'm being sneaky?"

"You're not," he pointed out. "Not about anything involving Volkov anyway… and everything else is just our personal business. I told him you'd come to my room to collect some paperwork you'd left behind – that's the truth, right?"

"Right," she nodded. "Paperwork. Personal business. Got it."

"But call me when it's over, okay? My number's on there too."

"I will, I promise."

"Amanda? Haven't you shooed that dog away yet?" Dotty's voice sounded behind them. They both looked over to see her standing at the kitchen window, beaming, but gesturing behind her to remind her daughter that Jamie and Phillip might start wondering what was taking so long.

"I'll be right in, Mother," called Amanda. "He's just on his way out now."

"Well, I'm sure he'll be back – hound dogs always are," commented Dotty, chuckling as Lee gave Amanda a quick kiss, then turned to blow one to her as well before striding away into the night.

Amanda watched him go, a small smile on her lips before turning to bounce back into the house. "Okay fellas – who's ready to show me their homework?"


	4. Bottled Up

Billy exited the elevator and walked across the lobby to the door to the meeting room where Lee's new friend was waiting. He glanced at Mavis Marston who gave him a slight smile.

"So?" he asked.

"She's nervous. Very polite. I've asked the cafeteria to bring up a carafe of coffee and something to eat. I think you might be a while - I've never met anyone who can talk without breathing before."

Billy gave a low whistle. "The overly chatty type? That's not Scarecrow's usual style."

Mavis' smile broadened. "You'll just have to see for yourself."

Billy rolled his eyes and took one last glance at the identifying information at the top of his briefing. Taking a fortifying breath, he plastered what he hoped was a serious-but-friendly look on his face and opened the door – and stopped dead in confusion. He turned around to look at Mavis who was now beaming at him with unconcealed humor, then back at the woman inside who had obviously only just stopped pacing. Even after having read the briefing notes several times, he hadn't realized how certain he'd been about what he'd find behind the door until he found himself looking at a slim brunette, dressed simply in jeans and a baseball shirt, and bouncing slightly on her toes while she stared back at him with a worried expression.

"Amanda King?" he asked in confusion.

"Oh! Yes! Good afternoon! You must be… oh I'm sorry! Lee… Mr. Stetson… I mean… he only ever called you Billy, and I'm sure the receptionist said your name but I was so nervous, it went straight out of my head…"

"Melrose," he replied, then shook himself and walked forward holding out his hand, the smile on his face now completely genuine. "I'm Billy Melrose, but please, just call me Billy."

The woman walked forward to meet him halfway with a shy smile. "It's nice to meet you. I really wanted to thank you for helping us get home so quickly. I'd told my sons I was going to be home the night before and I really didn't know what I was going to tell them if I'd been delayed another day after being away so long."

"You have children, Ms. King?" Only years of training kept Billy from showing his surprise.

"Mrs. And yes, two boys, Phillip and Jamie."

"Mrs." Billy repeated and glanced down at his file, seeing that it did indeed say 'Mrs." on the form. He gestured to the table. "Well, please sit down, Mrs. King. I'll try not to keep you too long." He already knew that was a lie – any married woman, but especially this woman, was so out of the norm for Lee's dating pattern that he already knew he wanted to hear everything about her. Maybe it really had just been talking in his hotel room, as Lee had described.

"That would be nice," she was saying now. "Not that I don't want to be helpful or, you know, thorough, but my boys have baseball practice after school and I'm the assistant coach and I can't be late for that." She looked down then back up, embarrassed. "That's why I'm dressed like this – in case I needed to go there directly from here since I wasn't sure how long this would take. I mean, normally I'd at least try and look a little more presentable but Lee… Mr. Stetson… Agent Stetson… he said you wouldn't care what I was wearing. I guess that makes sense… I mean, it's not like this is a job interview or something like that." She seemed to finally run out of steam, smiling at him when he couldn't help chuckling.

"No, indeed. Lee was perfectly correct," he confirmed. There was a light knock on the door and Billy turned to open it and let Mrs. Marston enter carrying a tray with the coffee and snacks which she placed on the meeting table. Their eyes met, his smile evident, hers hidden behind a prim expression, laughing eyes and the slight wink she gave him on her way back to her desk. Billy turned back to find Mrs. King still standing, back to biting her lip with worry.

"Please have a seat, Mrs. King." He walked forward and began to pour the coffee. "I'll let you fix your own. My wife says I always add too much sugar to everything."

Somehow even that little joke seemed to relax her. "Oh please, call me Amanda," she said softly, slipping into a chair and reaching for the cup he was holding out.

She may have begun to relax, but Billy could still sense this whole experience was unnerving her – a little light conversation was obviously in order.

"So, Amanda, does your husband help with the Little League team too?" he asked, as he poured his own cup.

Amanda's hand jerked, sending the sugar spoon crashing to the tabletop and he watched her eyes fly up to meet his, dark and wide with an expression he couldn't read and a blush rising up her cheeks.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh, you mean Joe? Oh no – he's living in Africa right now Too much of a commute to help with pitching tips, I'm afraid."

 _Oh, a lonely wife with an out-of-town husband_ , thought Billy. _That makes a little more sense.._. And yet, Amanda King still didn't seem to fit the mold and he couldn't help wondering why she seemed so tense – unless she was embarrassed at being caught in an extramarital affair. _Oh Scarecrow, what happened to your golden rule about married women?…_

"Africa? That must make it difficult for you," he went on genially.

"Well, I'm used to it now," she replied, sipping her coffee. "And after my father died, my mother moved in with us so that's been helpful, of course. And since the divorce… well, you just have to do what you need to do, don't you?"

Billy was oddly relieved to hear that Amanda was a divorcée; it hadn't seemed like Lee to be sloppy and this explained a lot. "Yes, you do," he agreed. "And I suppose that's what brings us here today, isn't it?" He opened the file in front of him and perused it as if he hadn't already memorized everything in it. "Would you mind if I taped this? I can't always take notes as fast as I'd like." He waited for her to nod, then pulled out a small voice recorder form his pocket and placed it on the table between them. "Thank you, Amanda. Now… it says here you met Agent Stetson in Las Vegas? But you live here in D.C.?"

"Well, Arlington, but yes," Amanda nodded, and took in a deep breath. "So it's all quite simple really. I went to Vegas with my old sorority sisters for a girls' weekend and we ended up in the same bar as Lee…"

* * *

Lee waited as long as he could stand it before venturing up to the Georgetown lobby an hour and a half after Amanda's interview had been due to start. He wasn't sure why she hadn't called him afterward, as she'd promised or why Billy hadn't come to find him, but it must have gone badly if neither of them were anywhere to be found. He came out of the elevator and paused, unsure how to explain his presence. Mrs. Marston stared at him over her glasses with what he could only interpret as a mocking gaze.

"May I help you, Mr. Stetson?" she enquired.

"I, uh… I thought I'd come and see if Billy needed any help from me for the interview he was doing today," he stammered.

"Oh I shouldn't think so," said Mrs. Marston serenely. "It seems to be going quite well from what I can hear."

Lee paled. "They're still in there?" he gulped.

"Oh yes," she replied. "He seems to be enjoying himself. It doesn't seem to be the usual kind of interview. He had to ask me to send for some forms from Personnel…" She left the sentence dangling for Lee to provide something to fill the silence.

"Oh my God," was all he managed to get out, before the silence was broken by the sound of Billy's booming laugh coming through the door.

"See what I mean?" said Mrs. Marston. "That must have been quite an adventure you had, Mr. Stetson."

Lee who was staring in terror at the closed door, gave her a quick look. "Yes, it was." He jerked his head back as the door opened and Amanda emerged, all smiles and blushes with a still-chuckling Billy behind her.

"Well," Billy was saying, "I'm sure having a wizard for an uncle certainly makes for some interesting Thanksgivings."

"He was always my favorite uncle," Amanda answered. "Even if the only magic he ever did was producing a quarter out of my ear."

 _Wizards?_ thought Lee, wildly. _What the hell had gone in there?_

Billy and Amanda noticed him at the same time, coming to a stop as he looked back and forth between them. Billy chuckled wheezily at the look on his face, then turned to Amanda.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Amanda. And if we do have any openings here, I will definitely keep you in mind."

Amanda ducked her head and gave him a grateful smile. "I'd really appreciate it. Part-time work can be so hard to find these days."

"Well, we certainly know you can perform under pressure, so if you can finish up those forms, we can get working on your security clearance to pave the way."

"Security clearance?" asked Lee in a strangled voice.

"Oh yes," said Billy. "Turns out Amanda has been looking for part-time secretarial work and you know what it's like around here – we can always use an extra hand or two."

"Is that ok?" asked Amanda, uncertainly. "It's just that, well we got to talking and Mr. Melrose…"

"Billy," he interrupted with a friendly smile.

"Billy," she amended, "mentioned that you sometimes need help getting your notes organized…."

"I do not need help," growled Lee, to Billy who was watching him with undisguised glee.

"Well, if you'd rather I didn't," Amanda began.

"Oh no, Amanda, Agent Stetson doesn't get a say-so here. One of the privileges of being the boss," said Billy before she could go any further. "Besides Lee himself sang your praises to me, didn't you, Lee?"

Lee glared at him as Amanda said "You did?" in a pleased tone.

"Of course, I did," he allowed in a gruff tone. "You saved my life."

"Not without almost getting us both killed first," she replied with dancing eyes. Lee reached out to take her arm and run his fingers along the bruises that had darkened even further overnight, missing the look Billy and Mrs. Marston exchanged behind their backs.

"I still can't believe you flew a plane on your first try," laughed Billy.

"Well I'd hardly call it flying," Amanda's smile grew brighter. "More like tripping but with a plane."

"But you'd really never flown one before? Not even sat in one as a passenger?"

"No, but the movies make it look so easy don't they?" said Amanda. "Pull back, push forward…"

"Don't hit the brakes so hard," teased Lee.

"I'll remember that next time," promised Amanda.

"There will _not_ be a next time!" said Lee emphatically.

"What a shame," said Amanda, shaking her head. "I really feel like I was just getting the hang of it…"

"Well, you know, Amanda, flight school is a specialty in our agent training. Maybe you should consider applying-"

"Billy!" Lee wheeled to glare at him, realizing too late that his boss was laughing.

Distracted by the teasing, no one but Amanda noticed the closet at the back of the hallway open and a beautifully dressed blonde woman step out, patting her hair and then pulling on gloves. The woman paused mid-step as she realized Amanda was watching, brow wrinkled in confusion. An annoyed look marred the otherwise very pretty face, and then she pushed her shoulders back and walked toward the trio as if it had been a perfectly normal thing to be hiding in a coat closet.

"Well, well, here you are Billy," she said, "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Well, Francine, as my assistant, I would have thought you'd know perfectly well that I was up here conducting Mrs. King's interview," said Billy.

"Oh! You're Lee's little helper!" said the blonde brightly, ignoring the way Amanda's mouth dropped open at that description. "How nice to meet one of his pet projects."

"Well, I…" Amanda began but the woman continued to talk over her.

"As I was saying, Billy, I've been looking all over for you. I've left the reports on your desk, but I have to go if I'm going to be on time for my cooking lesson with Mrs. Welch."

"Mrs. Welch?" asked Amanda. "Oh, my mother just loves her program."

Francine turned wide blue eyes on her. "Yes, I'm taking private lessons with her. She only takes on a few students at a time. And you know…"

"Nancy R. won't boil an egg without her!" chorused Billy and Lee in a manner that suggested they might possibly have heard this before.

Francine's teeth snapped shut and a mulish expression went across her face. "Yes, well. I thought you'd have been done with this ages ago. And as I said, I need to leave so if you need anything else today, Judy is covering for me."

"Well I'm sure I can manage without you for a few hours," said Billy blandly. "You have fun with that egg boiling."

With a last look through narrowed eyes, Francine tossed her head and swanned – it was really the only word Amanda could think of that fit – out the front door.

"And that's a good reason not to work here," whispered Lee in her ear. "The friendly co-workers."

"She was looking all over for you… in a closet?" asked a bemused Amanda, causing Lee and Billy to exchange a grimace. Seeing that, she rushed on. "Oh! Never mind – I never saw a thing." She waved her hands in front of her as if she was physically erasing the mental image. "And even if I did, I'm sure she was just looking for her coat. For the past ten minutes. In a very small closet."

Billy turned to her and held out his hand. "It was a real pleasure to meet you, Amanda, and I am really looking forward to seeing you again."

"Come on, I'll walk you to your car," said Lee, turning her gently toward the door before Billy could offer her a job on the spot. The deep chuckle behind him suggested he wasn't a moment too soon.

"Scarecrow?"

Lee tensed, shoulders hunched and turned to meet the twinkling eyes of his boss.

"You were absolutely right."

Lee glanced at Amanda who was looking up at him, question in her eyes, then back at Billy, his expression softening. "Yeah, I know," he grinned.

Billy returned the grin and watched as Lee ushered Amanda out the door, hand resting protectively in the small of her back.

"You like her," stated Mavis.

"Oh yes, indeed," Billy chuckled. "She's a breath of fresh air. How about you?"

"Very much, and from the look of it, so does Scarecrow. So are you really going to hire her?"

"As long as she doesn't let Lee talk her out of it. She's smart, well-educated, she can keep her head in a crisis..."

"She can pretend not to see what she's not supposed to see," interrupted Mavis with a smile.

"Indeed." Billy's already broad smile grew wider. "And no matter how carefully I set traps in there, she never once let slip what really went on between her and Lee on that trip. Do you know I actually ran out of room on the tape?" He gave a bark of laughter and tapped his fingers on the edge of Mavis' desk. "She'll be perfect."

Outside on the street, Lee and Amanda were strolling to where she'd parked her station wagon down the block.

"I think it went okay," she was confiding to him. "You were right – he's a very nice man."

"Did he really offer you a job? I almost had a heart attack when Mrs. Marston said he's asked her for personnel forms – I thought she meant to add you as my wife."

"He really did," she confirmed. "After the statement part, we just got to talking about other stuff and I mentioned I was looking for work… You don't really mind, do you? I really do need a job."

"Well, it's not ideal. I mean, just being a secretary isn't dangerous," Lee conceded. "But there are security forms and you have to list all your relatives…"

"Oh!" Amanda stopped dead as she realized what he meant. "Including husbands?"

Lee nodded. "That could be… tricky."

"Yeah." Amanda stood silently, chewing her lip.

"It's okay," he said comfortingly. "We'll think of something. Maybe even come clean if we have to."

"But if this doesn't work out… if we don't work out…" she went quiet and then spoke again firmly. "No, it's a bad idea. If he calls, I'll tell him I can't take the job."

"That's probably the best idea," agreed Lee, barely hiding his relief. "But you know, he might never call. Not because you're not good," he raced on as she turned to look at him. "But you know, budgets and stuff – he might not have a job opening anytime soon. And you'll have found something by then, right?"

"Right." Amanda agreed, cheerful again. "So will you be lurking in my garden again anytime soon, Muttley?" she teased as they arrived at her car.

"Not tonight," he said with real regret. "I have to go to a party. For work," he added quickly at her raised brow.

"Need a date?" she teased.

"Not this time," he replied. "I'll be undercover as a waiter. I think they'd frown on me bringing a plus one."

"Okay," Amanda answered. "Maybe tomorrow then?"

"Absolutely." Lee looked around the deserted street to make sure no one from the Agency was in sight, then leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "It's a date."


	5. Milk Run

They were close, way too close for him to pull any of his usual evasion techniques.

Lee had already had to abandon any idea of reaching his car when the two men had come after him. The Agency sedan he'd driven there – since waiters don't drive Porsches – was three blocks away and the street gave him no cover from his pursuers. He ran across the street instead, dodging between buildings in the hopes of hailing a taxi over on Washington Boulevard. He glanced behind him, putting on an extra burst of speed as the guys came into view at the other end of the alley. Reaching the main street, he searched in vain for a cab, realizing at the same time that the wide boulevard was too brightly lit for him to hide for long. He raced past a few stores, then behind the dumpster beside the 7-11 to catch his breath.

 _What kind of moron puts information in a box?_ he growled inwardly. _Why couldn't it be something that fits in my pocket?_

For a moment he debated ripping it open right there, but an instant later discarded the idea. What if the information he needed was coded onto the wrapping or something? He stuck his head around the dumpster in time to see the two guys who'd been chasing him stop on the sidewalk almost directly beside him. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a few words, they split up, obviously intent on covering more of the street that way. He slunk back behind the dumpster with a sigh. _Pinned down_.

Well, he couldn't just sit here and wait to be found. But he also couldn't make it all the way back to DC on foot, not all the way out here in the boonies of… _Oh my God, I'm in Arlington_. He began to frantically search his pockets, giving a muted whoop when he found the quarter Francine had tucked into his front pocket.

" _There you go, ET – now you can call if you need help._ _Wouldn't want to lose you too," she'd said, trying to make it sound like a joke, but both of them knew it wasn't all that funny._

" _Of course I will," he'd promised solemnly. "You promised to show me how a lady sucks eggs, right?"_

" _A lady doesn't suck eggs," she'd replied without hesitation. "She has staff to suck them for her_ _." She patted his chest to make sure the coin was firmly in place. "And if you're lucky, she makes a soufflé later this week and allows you a taste."_

" _Well, then I'll be extra careful," he'd agreed with a light tap on her nose. "See you later."_

Lee carefully poked his head around the side of the dumpster and surveyed the street. _There._ He could see the closest pursuer had his back to him, which meant with a bit of luck, he could sidle past him to that payphone he could see on the corner of the building. He managed to dial, then sink down behind the cover of a parked car without being spotted.

"Hello?"

"Amanda, it's me."

"It's me, who?" The warmth he could hear in her voice said she knew perfectly well who it was.

"I'm in trouble. I need help."

"Where are you? What do you need?"

Lee briefly closed his eyes and thanked God for the maternal ability to cut to the chase of an emergency immediately.

"I'm at the 7-11 on Washington Boulevard. Can you come get me?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Lee dropped the phone, without even bothering to hang it up and crept back behind the dumpster. He knew it was going to be close – those guys could easily find him in ten long minutes. Five minutes later, from his spot in the shadows, he could see the second guy coming back and the two of them consulting. He shrunk back as one of them spotted the dangling phone and pointed it out to his companion. He could see they were both on alert now and tried to flatten himself even more against the building. Then, just as one of them pulled a gun and began to pace toward the dumpster and his hiding place, there was a screech of tires and Amanda's station wagon came flying into the parking lot, skidding to a stop at an angle across two parking spaces. The two men whirled to see what was going on, both of them shoving their guns out of sight as Amanda got out of the car and looked around worriedly. Her eye lit on the two men standing there and for a sickening moment, he thought she was going to ask them if they'd seen him and then…

"Oh my gosh! Thank goodness there's someone here!" Amanda walked around and opened the back door of her car, leaning in and appearing to be searching for something. "I just can't believe it! My husband is due home from his shift in half an hour and I realized we were out of milk and I don't know what you guys are like, but my husband is just a bear if there's no warm milk waiting for him because he can't sleep without it. So I just jumped in the car and raced over here and can you believe it? I've only gone and run right out of the house without my purse! Could you help me pull this seat forward so I can hunt spare change? It probably won't be enough, I mean, you know how these late night places overcharge for the necessities – it's just shocking isn't it?"

The two men stared at her in stunned silence, before one of them finally reached into his pocket. Lee tensed; if he was going for a gun he'd have to stop him, but to his relief, the man simply pulled out his wallet.

"Here Lady, lemme buy you that milk. Wouldn't want you to get in your trouble with your old man. My dad was the same way."

"Oh that's so sweet!" cooed Amanda. "But I don't need a whole $20 bill – that's far too much! Maybe you could just come in and buy the milk with me and then I wouldn't have to worry about getting the change back to you. And of course, I must get your address so I can pay you back!"

Lee watched as the two men exchanged a glance and a shrug of their shoulders. He crept forward as the two of them trailed behind a still-talking Amanda. He thought she might have been telling them about Phillip and Jamie's love of Slurpees but all he knew was that she'd managed to leave the back door of her car ajar. With a quick glance to make sure he wasn't in their eye line, he launched himself into the car, pulling the door shut, then lying down on the floor and pulling the blanket off the seat to cover himself.

A few minutes later, the driver's door opened, and Amanda slid into her seat, still talking a mile a minute. "This was just so kind of you both. Now are you sure you don't want to give me your name so I can get the money back to you?"

"Nah, Lady – my ma would have my head if she thought I did that. You just make sure and do something nice for someone else one day," grunted one of the men.

"You mean, like I should rescue someone like you just rescued me?" she said in a breathy voice. "I sure will! Thanks again!" Lee heard the car door slam and Amanda turning the engine over.

"Please tell me it's you back there," she said. "And not some hitchhiking raccoon!"

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Yeah it's me. Now get out of here!"

He waited while he felt the car reverse and pull out of the parking lot, picking up speed once she was out on the street, then, when he felt they'd probably gone far enough to be out of sight, he pushed off the blanket and clambered over into the front seat. "God, you were fantastic. How did you know?"

"They didn't put their guns away fast enough as I pulled up" she said, pulling over into a dark spot at the curb and turning to him. "I figured they were either your problem or they were about to rob the place. Are you okay?" She began to run her hands over him, looking for injuries.

"I'm fine – thanks to you," he said, grabbing her hands and holding them between his. "How'd you get here so fast? I thought you said ten minutes?"

"I just tore out of the house. And I may have run a red light or two," she admitted. "I figured if you were calling me, it must be urgent."

"It was. Thank you." He pulled her closer, cupping her face in his hands and giving her a lingering kiss. "And I will thank you properly later, but for now we need to get out of here."

"Okay, where to?" She turned back to the steering wheel with a smile, and pulled back out into traffic.

"My place," he decided. "It's closer than the office and I can get a look at this."

Lee leaned back and rested his head on the back of the seat, using his calming techniques to bring down the adrenaline rush from the chase. They had only been driving a minute or so, and he was almost relaxed when Amanda said "Lee? Can I ask you something personal?"

He had to stomp down his reflex reaction to say 'no' as his adrenaline peaked again, despite himself. "Of course you can," he braced himself for whatever was coming.

"I mean you don't have to tell me, but you know, as my husband, I really think I ought to know and it's kind of embarrassing that I haven't asked you this before…"

Lee sighed. "Amanda – just ask me whatever it is you want to know."

"Well, I can't believe we've gone this far without me asking but we really can't go on for much longer without me knowing after all…"

"Amanda!"

"Okay… the thing is…" she looked over, and he realized that she was laughing. "Lee? Where do you live?"


	6. Happy Hour

Lee had the key in the door before it occurred to him what state his apartment was in. He paused and looked at Amanda. "You married me for better or worse, right?"

"Who knows?" she teased him. "I don't know what vows we went with, do you?"

"Good point. But let's just say you did." He turned the key and opened the door, stepping back to let her in.

"Oh my."

"Yeah, sorry." Lee ran his hand over the back of his head and squirmed. "I wasn't expecting to have anyone over."

"So I see. If I were a betting man, I'd guess you haven't had anyone over since the Nixon administration?" Amanda commented, stepping gingerly around the stack of pizza boxes by the door.

"Now, that's not fair," he complained with a wry grin. "I've only lived here since Carter."

"Jimmy? Or Billy?" she mocked.

Lee rushed forward to lift a pile of laundry off the sofa. "Here, you make yourself comfortable and I'll go get rid of this."

"I'm just going to call Mother – I tore out of the house so fast, I barely had time to come up with an excuse for where I was going."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you were stuck somewhere and needed a ride."

"Nice. Like I said, the more truthful, the better." He pointed at the phone as he walked into the bedroom to peel off the filthy waiter's uniform and pull on his robe. Tossing the uniform in the laundry pile, he walked back out just as Amanda finished her call.

She eyed him as he walked toward her. "How is a robe that short even functional?"

Lee struck a pose and waggled his brows. "It shows off my legs - helps me get girls."

"Well, you do have nice legs - but I don't believe you've ever had a problem getting girls."

"Well, now that I'm an old married man, I might have to retire it - invest in a pipe and slippers like Mr. Cleaver. Anyway, all quiet on the home front?"

"Yeah, and Mother says to tell you she's going to make something special for dinner tomorrow so bring your appetite."

"Home cooked meals and a wonderful mother-in-law? Wow, I should have gotten married years ago." Lee grinned before picking up the package he'd been given and settling down on the couch.

Amanda came to perch beside him. "So what is that?" she asked.

"It's supposed to be information about who's been passing intel on our agents' movements," he answered as he carefully sliced open the brown paper wrapper. "Someone has picked off four of our boys in the last two weeks, two just in the past few days and we don't know how the bad guys always know where they are. And Billy thinks that it's tied in with Volkov finding me in Vegas."

"Four agents? That's awful!" said Amanda sympathetically.

"Yeah – it's a dangerous business but that's a crazy high number in such a short period of time. What the hell?" Lee finished as he finished unwrapping to expose the music box inside.

"Not what you were expecting?" Amanda picked it up and began examining it as Lee started to check the wrapping paper for clues.

"No – but Warner is one of those guys who thinks it's like in the movies. He probably thought it would be clever to hide the information in some crazy way." Lee took the music box from her and flipped it over. "Yeah, see? The bottom comes off." He pried it open and pulled a small card out from where it was wedged in the mechanism.

"What does it say?" Amanda crowded closer before catching herself. "I mean, unless it's secret."

Lee was studying the card, flipping it back to front twice. "Well, if it's a secret, it's a damn weird one. Valley Forge Flapjacks? Duck a la Nathan Hale? Pilgrims' Peach Puff…" He put it down and picked the music box up again, poking around to see if there was anything else inside. "Damn it, I bet Warner thought he'd be clever and keep the code key back to get extra CI money."

"You'll have to pay him to find out what the code means?" asked Amanda. "That doesn't seem very patriotic."

"It's not – most informants aren't in the business for their country," answered Lee in disgust. "But a fat lot of good it did him – he got shot right after handing this off – so now we have a coded message and no way to figure out what it means."

"Well, maybe it's an anagram or something," she said, picking up the card. Or the first letter of each word? V-F-F, D-A-L-N-H? Oh, or maybe it's geography clues! Valley Forge, Plymouth Rock, Boston – no wait, Nathan Hale died in New York didn't he?" She scrunched up her eyes in concentration. "So maybe Manhattan?Like the Manhattan Project?"

"Okay, Sherlock, you can take your detective hat off now," Lee laughed. "I'll take it in to Crypto in the morning and see what they can figure out."

"Probably more than I can, huh?" she smiled back.

"Probably," he agreed, eyes twinkling. "That's why they get paid the big bucks." He set everything down on the table and stood up, holding out a hand. "So I guess I should send you home, Cinderella – it's way past midnight."

"Mmm," Amanda answered absent-mindedly, still crouched on the edge of the couch, staring at the card he'd put down. "There's just something about this – I can't place it but I know it'll come to me."

"Probably right before you drop off to sleep," said Lee. "That's usually when I solve cases." He paused and tilted his head, staring in confusion at the way her coat had hiked up and exposed her own bare legs. "Amanda? What are you wearing?"

He watched as Amanda went very still and started to blush. "Ahhh… just my fall coat."

He gave her a closer look, lips twitching as she pulled the coat more tightly around her. " _Just_ your fall coat?"

"Okay, now look… so I just ran out of the house," she began. "It was an emergency, right? Those guys were just about to find you…"

Lee sat back down, dimples dancing in his cheeks as she backed up slowly against the couch cushions. He moved closer, and reached out to grab the belt of her coat, stopping to smirk as she gave a small gasp.

"Uh-huh… so what are you wearing under there?" he grinned. "Or…" He lifted one eyebrow. "Maybe you're not wearing anything?"

Amanda looked scandalized. "Of course I'm wearing something! I wasn't about to run out of the house in the middle of the night naked!"

"No? Not even for me?" he leaned in and pressed her deeper into the cushions, dropping light kisses along her jaw until she relaxed.

"Not even for you," she answered, running her hands over his shoulders.

"Don't you think you should take off this lovely coat before you overheat?" he murmured against her hair as he swiftly unfastened the coat buttons. He sat back and grinned at the sight of the nightgown he'd unveiled. "Well, look at that, you're wearing my favourite sexy outfit." He leaned in again and began to nuzzle her skin along the edge of the lacy collar.

Amanda tried unsuccessfully to pull the coat closed again as his nimble fingers started working on the nightgown's fastenings. "Well, now you're just being silly – for one thing, it's not remotely sexy and for another, you can't possibly have a favourite outfit after less than a week."

"I beg to differ," Lee smiled against her skin. "This is what you were wearing the other night in Vegas and I have very fond memories of you in it – and then out of it."

Her laugh rasped against his hair. "So having sex made this sexy?"

"Absolutely not," he pulled back and gazed at her, suddenly serious. "We weren't just 'having sex' that night, were we?" He waited for her to shake her head. "So that's why it's my favourite. But as for being sexy…" He began to lick his way along her newly exposed collarbone. "Do you have any idea what it's like to know there's someone who cares enough to run out of her house in her nightgown just because I was in trouble?"

"You said you needed help – I wasn't about to stop and decide what to wear," she squirmed with desire as the heat of his breath dipped into the space between her breasts.

"And so you just ran out of the house like Cinderella leaving the ball," he teased. "Her Prince Charming liked that in a woman too."

"But she was in a ball gown, not a nightgown," Amanda reminded him. "That's hardly as attractive. Ohhhhh…."

Lee lifted his head and smiled at her from where he'd just lightly sucked her nipple through the light cotton, sending her body bucking up against his. "Not from where I'm sitting. But okay, so maybe not Cinderella… maybe more like Sleeping Beauty…"

"I'm not feeling very sleepy though," she smiled down at him, the fingers of one hand threading through his hair. "And I'm not sure you're a prince – more like the Big Bad Wolf."

"Princes are overrated," he growled. "Their countries are always smaller than they say, but wolves? You always know what a wolf wants. And wolves have big eyes, big teeth, big tongues…" He promptly demonstrated in a way that left her writhing under his weight.

"Big feet?" Amanda interrupted him, pulling him back up her body to kiss him.

"Definitely big… feet," he replied, running one of his hands under the hem of the nightgown and up her leg. "All the better to paw you with, m'dear."

"I don't know… you don't seem to have a lot of hair for a wolf," she said, doubtfully, running a finger down his sternum. "Maybe you're just a boring old prince after all."

"Or…" Lee suddenly scooped her up off the couch and walked toward his bedroom. "Maybe I'm a prince among wolves."

"Well, in that case… who's a good boy?" said Amanda contentedly, scratching him behind the ear.


	7. Eat, drink, and Be Married

"Thank you for coming tonight," whispered Amanda, as her mother left the room for a moment. "I know that thing at work must be worrying you, but it made Mother so happy."

She cast a quick glance at Jamie and Phillip who were obliviously poking around at the remains of their meal. Lee had been close to his usual charming self at dinner but she could tell he was distracted. There was a shadow in his eyes that reminded her of their hours with Volkov.

"No, it's good to have some time to step back and clear my head," he answered, reaching to squeeze her hand under the table. "Especially such an enjoyable distraction."

"Did your… editing group….have any luck with that problem you were having with your project?"

"No," he sighed. "They couldn't make any sense out of it either, so we're going to have to keep hammering away on this project without that angle."

"I'm sure you'll solve it – you're the best in the business, right?"

"I like to think so," he gave her a small wink in appreciation for her compliment.

"Mr. Stetson?"

"Call me Lee, Jamie," he smiled at the small boy beside him and got a shy smile in return.

He had been most nervous, if you could call it that, about meeting the boys. He had no experience in dealing with children – had had more than his fair share of dealing with them as the new kid in every school – but they came with the package deal that was Amanda, and so he'd done his best to make sure that, at least, they didn't dislike him. They'd been wary at first, but he'd found that all his old skills at trying to make new friends at those new schools were still effective – tell funny stories, encourage them to talk about themselves, make it clear you were listening to them… actually, he reflected it was the exact same skill set that came into play at Washington cocktail parties, except that he felt like this audience was quite a bit smarter.

It had helped too that Dotty had been pleased to see him, but had treated him as just a friend of Amanda's. He'd caught the sidelong glances between the boys and he recognized the cagey expression on their faces. Occasionally – very occasionally – his uncle had invited a "lady friend" home for dinner and Lee had learned to size them up quickly right from the start. He'd never misbehaved at those dinners but he had never tried very hard to win them over either. If there was one thing he'd learned in those peripatetic years, it was that people come and go and attachments were… unsafe. None of those women had ever lasted long, certainly none that he knew of were ever asked to move with them when the next posting came up. It occurred to him now, as he attempted to connect with Phillip and Jamie, what his uncle's vigilant attention to "diaper duty" had cost him along the way; he made a mental note to try and be nicer to his uncle next time he saw him.

"So you make movies, right?" Jamie was asking.

"Well, I make documentary films, they're a kind of movie."

"So… like the ones we see in school?"

"Exactly like those," Lee agreed.

Jamie and Phillip exchanged a look and then Jamie turned back to him to ask, voice filled with suspicion. "Are any of them about weather? You know, like how to tell one kind of cloud from another?"

Lee looked at Amanda who was biting her lip to keep from laughing. "We do make scientific ones, sure, but we make them about all sorts of things. Other countries, history, nature… all sorts of stuff... But if you're interested, I think I can find one we did on tornadoes."

Now it was his turn to try not to laugh as the boys gave him identical horrified looks.

"No thanks!" said Phillip quickly. "We know _all_ about tornadoes!"

"Really? I bet you were never in one though. They're scary as he...ck" he caught himself just in time

Now he had the boys' attention, both of them staring with wide eyes and open mouths.

"You were _in_ one?" asked Jamie.

"Sure was," said Lee. "My uncle and I were living in Oklahoma when I was just about Phillip's age and when the sirens went off, I was scared out of my mind because I didn't know what they were."

"What did you do?" asked Phillip.

"Well, luckily I was at school and everyone else knew what to do, so I just followed them down to the storm shelter."

"So you didn't really see it?" asked Jamie in disappointment.

"Well no, but I heard it – it was really noisy like a big train going by right over your head. And when we came back out when it was over, well, there was hardly any trees left standing and there was a boat right in the middle of the schoolyard."

"A boat?" both boys said together.

"Well, just a little motorboat, but the wind must have picked it right up and blown it there because the school wasn't near any kind of water."

"That's so cool," said Jamie dreamily. "And you get to make movies about stuff like that?"

"Uh-huh. My favourites are the ones we do about sports. And history."

Phillip looked disgusted. "History? Now that's boring!"

"Oh no," said Lee. "It really isn't – what about all those stories about cowboys like Wyatt Earp and Custer's Last Stand? Or the Gold Rush, or the San Francisco Fire? That's history, you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," nodded Phillip. "I didn't think about that."

"Mr. Stetson?"

"Yes, Jamie?" Lee braced himself. Phillip might be the older brother and he'd chattered almost non-stop through dinner but Jamie was the one who'd been steadily interrogating him all evening.

"How do you feel about dogs?"

He darted a look at Amanda who had a much-too-innocent look on her face. "Well, I don't know a lot about them," he said, feeling his way with caution, answering what he suspected was a loaded question. "I never had one growing up because we moved all the time and sometimes to places where I couldn't take a pet with me."

Jamie and Phillip's faces fell. "So you don't like them either?" asked Phillip.

_Ah, so Dean didn't like dogs…_

"I didn't say that – I said I don't know a lot about them," replied Lee. "I had a horse for a while though – she was my best friend."

"A horse? You like horses?" Phillip's face had lit up. "Me too!"

"Well, maybe we could all go on a trail ride sometime," offered Lee.

"Not me," interjected Amanda. "I like them – they don't like me. Allergies," she explained at his questioning look.

"But you're not allergic to dogs, right, Mom?" asked Jamie in a hopeful tone.

Lee had to admire his persistence. _Reminds me of me_.

"No I'm not, but that's a conversation for another day. But right now, Jamie, you need to finish up your dinner before your grandma brings out dessert," Amanda interrupted them before they could pester Lee more.

"Do I hafta?" asked Jamie. "This chicken tastes weird."

"That's because it's duck," laughed Amanda.

"It is?" he asked as if he didn't believe her. "You can eat ducks?"

"Sure you can, and this one was delicious, Dotty" replied Lee, patting his stomach as Amanda's mother came back in the room, carrying a dessert tray.

"Thank you, Lee. It was a new recipe I wanted to try out from my favorite cooking show."

"Let me guess – Mrs. Welch's" he asked.

"Fancy you knowing that!" she exclaimed as she handed him and Amanda their dessert. "Do you watch it?"

"No, but I have a friend at the office who's trying to learn to cook from her."

"Oh, is she getting private lessons? Lucky woman – Mrs. Welch is just wonderful! And you know, such a classic success story! She moved here from Russia as a young woman after the war - not that you'd even know it now since she barely has an accent – and she learned to cook all-American food and then she made it into a career!"

Dotty walked back into the kitchen to put together a coffee tray, still chattering. "And she comes up with such imaginative names for things - even if some of them don't make sense. I mean, like this dessert – the Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts in the 1600s– how on earth would they know about peaches? But that's what this one is called: Pilgrims' Peach Puff." She paused briefly at the sound of forks clattering onto plates in the dining room. "Is everything alright in there?"

"Mother?" Amanda's voice sounded odd – almost breathless. "What was the recipe for the duck called?"

"Well, that's another funny one – Duck á la Nathan Hale. Now what does he have to do with ducks? I mean I could see naming something Chicken Benedict Arnold but… where are you going?"

Dotty had walked back into the dining room in time to see Amanda on her feet and Lee already at the front hall closet pulling out his jacket.

"Lee just remembered something he forgot to do to his latest film and he needs to catch it before it goes to the film lab," said Amanda.

"Dinner was great – maybe hold onto a piece of that dessert for me?" said Lee, already fishing his keys out of his pocket and standing by the front door. He opened it and stopped, turning to look at Amanda. "I'll call you later and tell you how it turned out."

"Well, why don't you just go with him, Darling?" asked Dotty. "It sounds like it would be fascinating to get a chance to see how a movie is put together."

"Oh no, I'd just be in the way," Amanda started to answer but then Lee interrupted her, in a voice that had her turning to look at him with concern.

"Actually, you know what… would you come with me?" he asked. He was fidgeting with his keys, poised for flight on the doorstep but his pleading look was unmistakable. "I could use someone to talk to about it as I drive - you might really be able to help."

Amanda didn't wait to be asked again, leaping to grab her own coat and heading toward the door. "Back soon, Mother. Be good for your grandmother, boys" she called and shot out into the night.


	8. Drinking Buddies

For someone who wanted to talk on the way, Lee was oddly silent for a long time after they'd pulled away from Maplewood Drive.

"Are you okay?" Amanda asked finally.

"I don't know," he said in a flat tone.

"Do you think this will be enough to figure out how to stop more agents being killed?" she asked, not sure why he seemed so depressed when he should have been elated at the breakthrough.

"God, I hope so – there has to be some connection we've missed. I mean, the Russian background alone… but-" he stopped abruptly and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

"But?" she prodded gently.

"It can't be Francine!" It burst out of him almost in a shout. "It can't be – but she and Billy are the only people who knew where I was last week – the only people who could have told Volkov where to find me. And she's been openly meeting with that Welch woman with an absolutely perfect cover for weeks!"

"Well then…"

"No! No 'well then'!" He lifted one hand and slammed it back down on the wheel with frustration. "You don't understand. Francine is a _friend_." He looked over at Amanda, who was watching him warily, not quite sure what was upsetting him the most. He drew in a deep breath and tried to explain. "Look, I know what you saw when you met her and in some ways that's her public persona in a nutshell: pretty and bitchy and self-centred, but under all that, she's not… she's smart and funny and will turn around to defend you ten seconds after slapping you down with an insult. It just can't be her."

"It sounds like she's pretty special to you," said Amanda watching his profile and the way his cheek muscle twitched, echoing his frustration.

"She's a friend," he repeated. "A good friend."

"A girlfriend?" she ventured.

Lee stole a quick sideways glance that confirmed it even before he spoke. "Well, yes, briefly," he admitted, "but not for a long time. And we're still friends."

"So it couldn't be revenge on you or something?" She hated to ask but it seemed like Lee might have a blind spot for someone he cared about.

"No," he answered emphatically. "She's just not like that – it just makes no sense."

"Okay then, if she wouldn't do it willingly, what are the other possibilities? That she's being blackmailed?"

Lee considered that, eyes on the road in front of him. "Maybe," he allowed, then backtracked. "No. No! There is nothing she could be blackmailed for that she'd let people _die_ over it. She'd have come to me or Billy before that ever happened."

"Okay, so not blackmail," Amanda chewed her cuticle absently and tried to think of other reasons. "Could she be protecting someone? Maybe they have her family or something?"

"Believe me, that's first on the list to check when we get to the Agency but it still feels wrong. She's a really good actress when she needs to be but she has tells – do you know what I mean?" he cocked an eye at her.

Amanda nodded. "Like in poker – little physical things that give away what she's thinking."

"Exactly – and she isn't showing any signs, she's just been her regular everyday snarky self."

"You must really like her," Amanda commented, "To be this certain, I mean."

"I do," Lee agreed. He reached over to squeeze her hand. "As one of my best friends. When Eric was killed, I depended on her and Billy a lot – she was a real rock for me, you know?" He shook his head. "No, there has to be another explanation."

"And you'll find it," said Amanda firmly.

"God, I hope so," groaned Lee as he pulled up in front of the IFF building.

They got out and he led her inside, stopping at the receptionist desk, manned at this time of the evening by a genial middle-aged man in an ill-fitting guard uniform.

"Hey, Stanley," said Lee. "This is Amanda King. She'll need a guest pass. Code Revere."

The guard looked her up and down before pulling out the log book and letting her sign in while he fumbled in the drawer for a pass.

"Any chance Billy's still here?" Lee asked him.

"Oh yes, he's in his office. There's been some kind of ruckus, I think. I figured that's why you were here."

"It kind of is, I think," said Lee. "Thanks, Stanley."

Amanda took the badge with a shy 'thank you' and turned to follow Lee across the lobby, clipping it on as she went. She paused automatically, thinking they would head up the stairs, but instead Lee opened the closet at the back of the foyer and gestured with a grin for her to enter. She looked askance at him but stepped in, shifting slightly to make room when he followed her in and shut the door. She looked around, obviously expecting him open a secret door to another space; his grin broadened when her eyes went wide as the elevator moved.

"Who are you people? Get Smart?" she asked.

"Where do you think they got the idea?" he replied.

"It all looks so normal from the outside," she shook her head. "Just a normal office with a nice old man guarding it."

"Well, that's what it's supposed to look like," answered Lee. "And don't let Stanley fool you – he's ex-Special Forces and he could have killed us both about ten times over before we reached the elevator."

"Really? He seemed so harmless."

"He is harmless – if you're on the right side. He just took this as a retirement gig so he could be close to his grandkids. Okay, come on."

The elevator had stopped and Lee pushed aside the coats on the rail to let Amanda step out into a gleaming white marble corridor.

"This is crazy," she whispered, looking around in amazement.

"I know – but I don't have time to explain it." Lee put his hand on her back and guided her down the hall, and through a set of glass doors. The large open space was full of desks and people, some of whom looked up in surprise as they walked in, but Lee led her without pause to an office across the room and rapped on the door.

"Come!" came Billy's voice from inside. "Scarecrow – good. I was just about to call you in," he went on as Lee walked in then trailed off and stood up as he saw Amanda with him. "Mrs. King? What the…" he stopped and looked to Lee.

"We think we know how the Russians are getting the information," Lee said with no preamble. "And it was kind of down to Amanda that we found out."

"Well, my mother really," said Amanda.

"Your mother?" There was really little else in the world that could have surprised Billy more at that moment.

"It's a long story," interrupted Lee. "And we'll tell you all about it later – but those code phrases? They're all recipes from that Mrs. Welch woman that Francine's been getting lessons from. And it turns out Mrs. Welch is not exactly as American as apple pie." He quickly sketched out everything Dotty had told them at dinner about the chef's background.

"You seriously think she's using her show to send out coded messages? How would that even work?" He was looking at Lee but it was Amanda who answered him.

"Well, Sir, I was thinking about it on the drive over and her show is on twice a day and my mother has it on all the time and she – Mrs. Welch I mean, not my mother – I noticed that she has this odd way of describing some recipes. I mean, most recipes will say 'Cook at 350 degrees for 20 minutes" or something like that but Mrs. Welch with her recipes, she does this thing where she says ' _exactly_ 300 degrees for _exactly_ one hour' and most recipes, well, they just don't work like that because people have different kinds of ovens that heat differently and sometimes a chicken is bigger or smaller and anyway, no one ever says _exactly_ like that – they usually just say until it's browned or something, do you know what I mean?" She stopped finally and cocked an inquiring eye at him. "So maybe that's the code?"

Billy stared at her, then at Lee who shrugged in equal disbelief, and then back at Amanda. "Yes, Amanda, I do know what you mean – my wife watches those shows too." He sat back down heavily in his chair and looked at Lee. "So it's Francine then," he said sadly.

Lee leaned forward, both his hands on the front of Billy's desk. "I know what it looks like – but I won't believe that until I have to. Let's get her in here and find out for sure."

Billy shook his head. "That's the problem, Lee. I can't call her in. She was supposed to come back here after her cooking lesson today and she hasn't been seen since. That's why I'm still here – I was just getting a search grid organized. I thought she was just another missing agent… but if she's on the run – well, you know better than anyone how good she is – she could already be out of the country."

Lee's head dropped and Amanda reached out to rub her hand along his back in comfort.

"No," said Lee suddenly, lifting his head again and glaring at Billy. "I don't believe it and neither do you." He slammed a hand down on the desktop. "We start looking for her at wherever that woman films her show and we don't stop until we find her."

"Herndon," said Amanda quietly. "That's where Mrs. Welch films her show," she explained as both men looked at her. "It's a house off the highway, near… well, I can show you on a map better than I can describe it – I drive by it all the time taking the boys to camp."

Lee turned to look at Billy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Billy. "Get a team and get going!"

Lee straightened up and wheeled for the door. "You find that on a map for Billy – I'll be back in two minutes," he ordered Amanda over his shoulder.

Billy was already on his feet, pulling maps out and spreading them on his desk. Amanda watched Lee weaving through the desks of the bullpen, calling out orders and watching people leap their feet without question. It was like watching the transformation again that she'd seen in Vegas from man to agent. He'd said then that he'd save her and she knew he was determined to do the same for his friend.

"Amanda?" Billy said softly to get her attention. "So where's this house?"

She shook herself and went to join him. "Okay, so you come down the 606…"


	9. Shot in the Dark

Lee edged his way along the side of the house, stopping abruptly and holding up a hand to stop the men following him. He pointed to two of them, then to the cellar door that had been left open. They nodded and moved forward silently to disappear down the steps. He made eye contact with the fourth man on his team, gesturing for him to move around to the front of the house while he flattened himself beside the backdoor and peered in the window.

He winced at the sight of Francine strapped to a chair to keep her upright, head lolled back, eyes half-open but with the telltale glaze of being drugged. A middle-aged woman – Mrs. Welch he assumed - came into view and pulled her head back, holding a glass to her lips and forcing it down her throat, although Francine appeared to be putting up a small struggle. A rush of mixed emotions hit him – anger at the way Mrs. Welch was manhandling her so forcefully, relief that he'd been right about her not doing this willingly, and an ice-cold determination to see that woman in hell before the night was over.

"One taken out down here, Scarecrow," came a whisper over his earpiece from one of the agents in the cellar. "And we're at the stairs."

"We have a woman in the car out front," a second voice added. "And one man headed back inside."

"Fletcher, Nelson – you get the woman and get Desmond out of the line of fire. Donovan, you get the man. Mrs. Welch is all mine. We move on three," ordered Lee.

"Roger."

"Roger."

"One…two… three!" Lee kicked in the back door as the whole house came alive with noise.

* * *

Left to her own devices after Lee left to head the search mission, Amanda appointed herself as the official coffeemaker, brewing up one pot after another for grateful agents and Billy.

When she'd slipped into his office with a mug and placed it at his elbow, he hadn't even looked up from the maps he was studying, he'd just reached out for it with a murmured, "Thank you Francine."

A beat later, he'd looked up to meet Amanda's sympathetic expression and grimaced. "I'm sorry, I'm just used to…"

"I didn't know how you take it," Amanda smoothed over the moment. "But I figured this late at night, I couldn't go wrong with extra cream and sugar."

"That's just how I like it," he smiled at her, taking a moment to sit back in his chair and sip it. "Although my wife is always trying to get me to cut down – she says I always add too much sugar."

"I remember you saying that," Amanda smiled back at him shyly. "She's probably right, you know – it's not good for you."

"Now don't you start as well," Billy's warm grin showed he wasn't serious. "As if Jeannie and the girls and Francine aren't enough…" The smile vanished and he stared down at the mug, frown lines appearing on his forehead.

"I'm sure Lee's right," she said. "I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."

Billy's gaze came back up and she could see the pain there. "I know what she seemed like the other day when you met her and I won't deny she's a pain in the ass a lot of the time but she and my oldest daughter, they're exactly alike, the way they both nag me when my wife's not around... Sometimes I think they all conspire behind my back."

"That's what families do, isn't it?"

"Speaking of families…" Billy gestured for her to sit down. "I could use a distraction right about now and I never did hear how it was your mother that figured this all out."

"Oh!" Amanda gasped. "She didn't figure anything out – I mean, she did but she doesn't know she did, she doesn't know anything about what Lee really does…" She paused and took a breath. "Lee was having dinner at my house tonight and she started to talk about the recipes she'd used and when we realized the stuff in the code was the names Mrs. Welch was using, it just all kind of made sense, you see."

Billy really wasn't certain why Amanda would know about the codes but found himself zeroing in on the most unbelievable part. "Scarecrow was having dinner with you and your family?" he repeated in disbelief.

Amanda shook her head. "No. _Lee_ was having dinner with my family." He could hear the faint reprimand in her voice and pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. "My family thinks he's just a nice film producer that I met on my trip."

"But why was he there?" Billy couldn't help asking. "I mean, I know you two went through a lot in a short period of time, but didn't your family wonder why they were entertaining a man you'd supposedly just met?" The mental image of Lee Stetson at a suburban dinner table was making the laughter bubble up in his chest.

"Oh well, you know how mothers are. Mine wouldn't believe me when I said I'd just been in a tiny little car accident…"

"Rightfully so," he interjected with a chuckle.

"Well yes, but that's the story I'd told her and then of course she wanted to know why I was in the car and who was with me and if they'd been hurt and I was telling Lee all that after the interview and he said he'd come by and calm her down."

"And did he?" Billy smiled. He'd watched Lee's charm take down more women than he could count, but never a concerned mother.

"Oh yes," Amanda smiled. "My mother is a sucker for a good-looking man. By the time he was done telling her tall tales about his world travels, she'd forgotten why he was there at all."

At that moment, the radio in Billy's office crackled to life as Lee's voice announced, "We're on site, Billy and approaching target."

Billy grabbed his handset, "Do what you need to do, Scarecrow, and keep me informed."

"Roger that."

As he began to pore over the map again, tracking the movements of his agents in the field, Amanda realized Billy had forgotten she was there. She knew she should get up and leave but also knew, selfishly, that she couldn't _not_ listen in case anything happened to Lee. The voice coming over the radio was Lee, but not Lee – it was his work voice, she decided, his Scarecrow voice, the voice he'd used with Volkov – curt, clinical and with none of the warmth she associated with him.

" _One taken out down here, Scarecrow. And we're at the stairs."_

" _We have a woman in the car out front and one man headed back inside."_

" _Fletcher, Nelson – you get the woman and get Desmond out of the line of fire. Donovan, you get the man. Mrs. Welch is all mine. We move on three,"_

" _Roger."_

" _Roger."_

" _One…two… three!"_

Amanda couldn't help but lean in, desperately trying to hear anything that would tell her what was going on, but couldn't make out anything except grunts and heavy breathing for several seconds. She gasped and jumped at the unmistakeable sound of a gun firing and the scream of pain that followed but then, just when she felt like she couldn't even breathe for fear of missing something, voices began to bark across the radio again.

" _Clear."_

" _Target neutralized and clear."_

" _Clear."_

Then finally Lee: _"We got 'em Billy! We got 'em!"_

Billy fell back in his chair, looking up to meet Amanda's mirrored expression of relief. "We got 'em," he repeated as she beamed.

They both stopped dead though as they realized they could hear Lee's voice, softer now. _"Hey, it's okay, we've got you… you're going to be okay, you hear me? We've got you…"_ That was the voice she knew, the tone of steady comfort she'd heard throughout their own ordeal.

Billy reached forward and grabbed the handset. "How is she, Lee?"

" _Pretty heavily drugged… I can't get her to come to – I think Welch may have overdosed her_." There was a frantic element to Lee's voice that told the tale of how helpless he felt.

"We've got an ambulance on the way. You look after her, you hear me."

" _You know it_."

Billy leaned back in his chair, visibly shedding the tension that had been weighing him down for the past few hours. He glanced up at Amanda and grimaced. "You shouldn't have been in here or heard any of that," he sighed.

"Heard what?" Amanda smiled. "I didn't hear a thing from way over there by the coffee station."

Billy grinned back at her. "You are going to fit right in around here, Amanda."

Amanda's smile dimmed. "Well, Sir, I've been thinking about that and I'm not sure that's really a good idea…"

"Has Scarecrow been talking you out of it?" asked Billy, frowning. "I'll talk to him."

"Oh no," replied Amanda, reaching for an explanation that didn't make it sound exactly like that. "It's just that... well, the whole security clearance thing seems quite overwhelming and I'd have to lie to my family about where I was working, and well…"

"Hmm," Billy grunted an acknowledgement of her concerns. "Well I'd still like you to consider it. But for now," he nodded at the equipment. "I really do need to monitor this and you really do need to be not hearing any of it."

"Yes Sir."


	10. Fireball

Lee made certain the Welch estate was crawling with Agency people combing for evidence before he released the scene to Duffy and headed back to Georgetown to check on Francine. She had started to revive in the ambulance even before they'd left to take her back to the Agency clinic, but he needed to be sure she was really okay before he went into a room with Mrs. Welch. He knew that if he was even the slightest bit worried about Francine's recovery, he'd give into the kind of rage that would make any interview ineffective, but if he knew she was going to be alright and that woman didn't, he could allow that rage to be laser-focused and ice cold – just the attitude he needed to deal with someone who no doubt had years of KGB training.

Even before he'd left the scene, it had become apparent from the files they'd retrieved that this scheme had extended far beyond just the Agency. Mrs. Welch had been giving private lessons to the wives of Cabinet Secretaries, senior diplomats, White House lawyers…

"Oh God," he'd blanched when Duffy had shown him the first few things they'd found. "She didn't actually teach the First Lady, did she?"

"Nah," Duffy grinned. "It looks like that's a rumor she started herself just to get clients."

"Thank God for small mercies," muttered Lee. "Okay, you make sure every bit of that gets bagged and I'll see you back at base. I have an appointment for a little one-on-one time with that witch."

He was so focused on that appointment that he almost missed seeing Amanda standing outside the bullpen until she gave him a small wave of welcome as she walked toward him and he was so deep into his mental preparation for the upcoming interrogation that he couldn't stop himself from scowling at the sight of her and saying curtly, "Amanda? What are you doing here?"

"You brought me, remember?" she teased.

"No I mean, what are you _still_ doing here?"

Her movement forward faltered at the sharp tone. "Well, I didn't know what else to do… and you drove here so…" she trailed off as he continued to frown.

"You should have grabbed a cab or something," he answered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Damn it, I can't drive you home now – I have to go straight into an interrogation and-"

"Lee." She held up a hand stopping him short, dark eyes snapping. "I'm not still here because I need a ride home like a child! I'm still here because I didn't want to leave without knowing you were alright!"

"Oh. Well, I am," he said ungraciously, trying to step around her to keep moving toward the clinic until she stepped sideways to stop him.

"And Mr. Melrose asked me to come tell you that Francine is fine as well but they're keeping her under observation so you need to go see him first."

"He sent you?" he asked, stopping short and staring at her with suspicion. "Why?"

"Because everyone else is busy doing real work and because for some ridiculous reason, he thought you might not be as rude to me as he knew you'd be to other people. But I see he thought wrong!"

He had been trying to do another end run around her as she spoke, but was brought up short by the angry tone in her voice. He turned to look at her, hands on her hips glaring at him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! But…" he looked down the corridor to the clinic and then back up to the elevator that would take him to the fifth floor where Welch was being held, waiting for him, then back to Amanda who still looked pissed. "I just don't have time to let my head out of the game and be distracted just to be polite!"

"Fine. I'll tell him I passed on the message, that you went your own way anyway and then I'll grab that cab home and stop _distracting_ you." She wheeled away, headed for Billy's office.

"Oh, for crying out loud," he groaned. "Amanda, wait!" he called after her, striding quickly to catch her wrist and spin her back around. She glared up at him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if she was biting back an angry comment. He took a deep breath and tried again. "No, look… I really am sorry and I know it's my fault you're still here and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that but this is my _job_ , Amanda – and a lot of the time it's not fun or pretty or a place to stop and be nice and I need to go make sure that a woman who has had four people _murdered…_ people I _knew_ -"

"Lee, stop." Amanda cut him off as she twisted her wrist out of his grip and for a heartbeat he thought she was going to walk away but then her hand kept twisting until she had flipped it all the way around in order to grab his hand in hers. "I know," she said. "I know you're angry and I know you need to stay here and see this through and I'm perfectly happy to find my own way home, but I really did just want to know you were alright – when I heard that gunshot-" She closed her eyes and shivered slightly.

"What do you mean when you heard the gunshot?" he interrupted. "What the hell were you doing listening in on a covert op?"

"I wasn't meant to, obviously but I was bringing Mr. Melrose a coffee and I happened to still be in the room, and when I heard that shot and then it was so long until I heard your voice again…" she squeezed his hand gently, as the realization hit him of what she'd gone through, helplessly listening with no training to know what was going on or how to cope with it. "Anyway, I'm glad you're alright and I'll see you when this is all over, okay?"

"You sure about that?" he asked. "I mean – are you sure you want that?"

She tilted her head and pretended to think about it, her body language more relaxed than it had been seconds ago. "Oh, I think I can give you the benefit of the doubt for now – everyone had a bad day at work from time to time – and bad days here…well, they're certainly bad." She paused and gave his hand another squeeze. "Go talk to Mr. Melrose like he asked and then go do whatever you have to do and call me when you can." She didn't like the bleak look in his eyes and added in as light a tone as she could manage, "Remember, Mother put aside that piece of dessert for you, and if you time it right, you'll get another home-cooked meal out of it."

"Thank you." He gave the bullpen guard a quick glance then briefly lifted her knuckles to his lips. "I'll try not to still be a jerk by then."

"Hey, for better or worse, right?" she murmured with a wink and turned away. "I'm just glad we didn't have to test out in sickness or in health tonight."

He watched her for a second and then a thought struck him. "Amanda?" he called after her, waiting for her to turn back before giving her an apologetic look. "Uhhh, do you have to go home right away?"

"Well, no, I suppose not, not if you want me to wait for you," she replied.

"No, I don't, but... I know I shouldn't ask you this but um, could you do me a favor and go sit with Francine until she comes to? She really hates hospitals and I think it would be good for her to wake up to a friendly face."

"A friendly face? Lee, she's barely even met me," Amanda said, astonished.

"No, I know, but if she wakes up and she's alone, she's likely to do something like try and walk out of there."

"And then what? I'm supposed to stop her?" she retorted.

"No, I don't mean… I just don't want her to be alone, not when she probably won't remember why she's even in there. It's happened to me and it's really disorienting and she's-"

"Your friend. Well, of course I'll sit with her if it would make you feel better," Amanda smiled at him. "I'm happy to help."

"Thank you – come on, I'll show you the way before I go see Billy. Then I can see her first and he can't be mad at me, right?" He waited for her to nod and for the smile he loved to reappear. "When this is all over, we need to talk okay?" he added as they headed down the hall "About all this stuff."

The smile was almost gone again. "That sounds serious."

"It is – but it's a conversation for later, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. But inside she couldn't ignore that tiny voice that said _It's never a good thing when someone says you have to talk…_


	11. A Dash of Bitters

_He pressed his moist lips to her, pudgy hands roaming her body as if he owned it._

" _Oh yuck", thought Lady Aramintha as she struggled to escape his embrace._

"Oh yuck, indeed," muttered Amanda, as she gave up and tossed aside the Harlequin paperback that one of the nurses had loaned her to pass the time. "Since when does an English countess sound like one of my kids?"

"I know they're terrible," Allie had quipped as she'd handed it to Amanda with a grin. "But when you're in the middle of third shift and struggling to stay awake, they're just mindless enough to cope with."

Amanda stretched and yawned, then checked her watch. Just past midnight and she could feel herself starting to get cold as her body temperature dropped as she got tired. She was just thinking about going to ask the nurses if there was a spare blanket she could use to wrap herself up in, when she realized there were signs of Francine regaining consciousness, something in the way she took in a deep breath and released it, the slight flutter of her eyes.

"Francine?" Amanda said softly.

Francine's lids flew open, ice-blue eyes pinned on Amanda instantly, then a beat later, she was sitting upright, gaze sweeping the room as she pushed back the covers, and tried to get out of the bed.

"No, don't!" Amanda shrieked, holding her hands out in front of her. "Your IV is still in!"

Francine glanced down at the IV, yanked it out efficiently, then slid off the bed and backed up against a wall, pawing at the blood pressure cuff until it also came off. "Where the hell am I?"

"The Agency," Amanda sputtered out. She looked over at the buzzer that would call the nurse, but after Lee's comment about Stanley upstairs, she wasn't willing to take on whatever defensive moves an irrational Francine might have. She could only hope the nurses were monitoring the medical equipment somewhere.

"And who the hell are you?" asked Francine, only slightly less tense, eyes still sweeping the room.

"Amanda King… we met the other day in the lobby. Well, not really met, I mean, you just happened to pass through while I was-"

Francine's eyes narrowed and she stopped swaying for a moment. Her gaze fixed on the bruises that were visible up and down Amanda's arms. "You're Lee's friend…"

"Yes, that's right," said Amanda in a soothing voice.

"And why are you here? For that matter, why am I here?" Francine looked down and scanned herself, going as far as to lift the neck of her robe to stare down her front. "I wasn't in the field tonight. Was I? Why can't I remember?" She looked suddenly defenseless as she tried to recall anything at all of the last few hours.

"Well, no, not exactly…" Amanda stopped, sure she wasn't supposed to say anything.

"Not exactly?" Francine was about to press further when the door swung open and the nurse rushed in, stopping dead and looking relieved when she saw Francine upright.

"God damn it, Francine. What have you done to that IV? It's like you want another scar!"

"Allie?" For the first time since she'd come to, the blonde relaxed when she recognized the nurse, finally convinced she was in a safe space. "Why am I here?"

"Same reason you're always here," said Allie, taking her by the arm and leading her back to the bed. "Run-in with a bad guy."

"What kind of bad guy?" asked Francine, shaking her head, trying to clear it of the fuzzy feeling that clogged it. "Why can't I remember?"

"I'll let the doctor and Mr. Melrose explain, okay?" said Allie, tucking the blankets back around her. "Now, you just sit tight here and Amanda will keep you company while I go fetch them, alright?" She waited for Francine to nod before giving Amanda a quick encouraging smile and whisking back out.

Francine turned to look at her and Amanda, feeling foolish still just standing in the middle of the room, sank back into a chair and looked back. "How are you feeling?" she asked in a feeble attempt to break the ice.

"Why are you here?" asked Francine.

"Well… I was with Lee, or he was with me, I guess, when we figured…" Amanda started then stopped when she realized she couldn't really give Francine an explanation without telling her what had happened. "Well, Mr. Melrose can explain it better than I can."

"Huh." Francine gazed back suspiciously and a heavy silence fell. "So in the meantime, you're just going to sit there looking at me like I'm on my way to the guillotine?" she said finally.

"Oh, I'm not!" protested Amanda. "I mean I'm nowhere near as crafty as Madame Defarge, for one thing. And you're not in trouble – Lee just asked me to keep you company."

Francine gave a slight smile at the reference. "But I can't be left alone? And you got stuck with guard duty?"

"I'm not guarding you, I'm just keeping you company," repeated Amanda. "Because Lee asked… Look, I'm just trying to help out in any way I can and I just sort of ended up in this but as a regular person, there's not really a lot I can do, is there? And Lee asked if I'd sit with you since he was worried about you but he can't be here because he's- Would you like a glass of water or something?" she changed tack abruptly, noticing Francine was licking her lips. She stood up and crossed to the small table where a jug of water was sitting.

"That would be nice, actually," Francine admitted. "I have a weird taste in my mouth."

"That'll be from-" Amanda started, then faltered. "Being asleep for so long," she finished lamely as she handed Francine the glass.

"Probably" said Francine, in a tone that she said she didn't believe it was any such thing. She drained the glass slowly, and let Amanda refill it, surveying her the whole time as Amanda went to sit back down again. "So, if you made it past the dragon in the lobby, you must be more than just a "regular person"."

"Oh no," said Amanda. "I'm just here by accident really…"

"Like you ended up in Lee's hotel room the other week by accident?" asked Francine with a perfectly arched brow.

"Not exactly," admitted Amanda.

"Really?" said Francine. "Well, I look forward to hearing all about how I was _not exactly_ in the field and you were _not exactly_ anywhere you were supposed to be – but you're not going to tell me, are you?" Amanda shook her head. "Well then, since you won't tell me why I'm here, or why you're really here, I guess we'll just have to fall back on my mother's answer to everything."

Amanda lifted her own brows in silent question.

"Polite conversation," Francine went on. "So, Dear," she cooed in a voice that positively dripped with disinterest. "What is it you do? When you're not somewhere 'by accident'?"

"Well," Amanda replied, carefully. "I'm a mother. And I'm a den mother. I'm looking for work. Actually, I do a lot…"

"That's sweet. I just bet you do," said Francine. "And what were you 'doing' when you ended up here by accident?"

Amanda considered the question carefully, trying to decide if answering it would be a problem. _Tell the truth but not too much_ , she could hear Lee's voice in her head. "I was having dinner with Lee when he figured out something about his case and he just, ummm… brought me along."

"Hmph." Francine looked her over. "Lee took you out to dinner dressed like that?"

Amanda looked down at her slacks and blouse – perfectly reasonable for a family dinner at home- and opened her mouth to try and make some kind of reply but Francine was already talking again.

"I mean, when I make Lee take me out for a thank-you dinner, at least I make sure he takes me somewhere nice."

Amanda found her voice. "Actually, it was somewhere nice – it was my house. With my family," she said in acid tones.

Francine's mouth dropped open slightly and she stiffened as she looked her over again in a new light, almost as if Amanda was some new species she'd never seen before.

Fortunately at that moment, the door opened and the doctor swept in, followed closely by Billy.

"Well, well, you're awake!" said the smiling doctor. "Good news, we narrowed down the drug-"

"Drug? What drug?" Francine's voice began to rise.

"Whoa, whoa," said Billy, holding out a soothing hand. "We're getting a little ahead of ourselves, I think, Doctor." He turned to Amanda. "Amanda? Could you..?"

She leapt to her feet and headed for the door. "Absolutely, Sir." She walked out the door just in time to find Lee coming down the hall towards her.

"How is she?"

"Just woke up – Billy and the doctor are with her now." She held out a hand to stop him as he tried to go past. "They're just about to tell her what happened so give them a few minutes." She looked him over, noting the shadows under his eyes. "How are you?"

"Better now that we've cut off the pipeline of information being sent east," Lee answered, attention still half on the door beyond, but obeying her for the moment and going no further. His eyes came back to look at her properly, seeing the same shadows on her face. "But you know what? You shouldn't still be here – you should be home in bed."

"Is that an order or an offer?" Amanda teased, pleased that this brought a lighter look to his face.

"This time? An order," he answered, slipping his hand to the small of her back and guiding her to the elevator. "I'll come up with you and see you into a cab and then tomorrow maybe I can get that my piece of that peach puff thingy?"

"I'd like that," she answered, stepping into the small space as the door opened. "Would you like me to make something else though?"

"Oh no," he said firmly. "The look on Mrs. Welch's face when she found out a simple family dinner had taken her entire operation down was priceless – and I am going to enjoy every bite of that dessert with a big ole dollop of spite-flavored whipped cream."

"Good," said Amanda as they stepped out into the lobby. "Now, you don't need to wait with me," she turned to him. "I'm sure Stanley can get me safely into a cab, and I know you want to get back and check on Francine."

After getting a look of agreement from Stanley, Lee sighed and nodded. "Fine, but call me when you get there so I know you made it."

"Scarecrow, do you honestly think I won't call one of my old army pals to see a lady home at this time of night?" scoffed Stanley. "And she'll be safer with them than with a rascal like you," he added, making both of them laugh.

Lee maneuvered Amanda across the foyer before stopping and giving the guard a quick grin. "Out of security camera range," he explained, before drawing her in for a kiss. "And you never saw a thing," he added, pointing a finger at Stanley who whistled tunelessly and stared at the ceiling. "Good night," he murmured.

"'Night, Sweetheart," she whispered back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Lee gave her another light kiss, then turned to walk across the lobby and back into the elevator, giving her one last wave before he closed the door. He waited until the elevator was moving to give into the broad grin he'd been suppressing.

 _Sweetheart._ He gave a little whistle and bounced on his toes. _She called me Sweetheart._

* * *

They took advantage of the continuing Indian summer evenings to take their after-dinner coffee out to the gazebo after the boys had gone to bed.

"The boys seem pretty laid back about me appearing two nights in a row," he ventured.

"Well, they like you – you don't talk down to them like Dean sometimes did." When Lee gave a smug look, she added, "And of course, they see you as a sure bet on the getting-a-dog thing," reaching out to squeeze his hand when he looked a little concerned. "To say nothing of the cool car," she went on, using her coffee cup to hide the giggle threatening.

He was still looking nonplussed, so she put down the cup and took his hand between hers. "Lee, I'm teasing. Of course, they like you – what's not to like?"

"I don't have any experience with kids," he groaned. "They'll find something eventually."

"I doubt that," she smiled, reaching up to run her thumb down his cheek. "Now, how about you tell me how Francine is?"

"Almost back to her regular self," he replied. "But I'll know she's back when she starts insulting me again. Can't happen soon enough," he added making a face. "She's kind of … well, depressed is the best word, I guess."

"Well, it's been less than a day and it must be quite a shock to wake up in hospital and find out you did what she did."

"What she was forced to do," Lee corrected her, grimly.

"Well, yes, but I don't get the feeling Francine is the type to be impressed by the difference right now," said Amanda. "Is she?"

"No," Lee admitted. "But you turned out to be a good distraction – she practically had me in thumbscrews trying to find out why you were there. And then, when Billy chimed in and said he was thinking of hiring you…." He paused, as a memory struck him. "Although I never did find out why she kept making jokes about you knitting."

"Just a bit of gallows humour," quipped Amanda. "Anyway, about the job thing-"

"You've changed your mind?" he asked, shooting her a worried look.

"No, no, not at all," she rushed to answer. "I mean, I have a second interview at Honeycutt Typewriters this week, so it might not matter but even if that falls through... well, I just don't think I could do it."

"Why not?" Lee asked. "We could come clean – it's not the end of the world."

"Oh no, that's not why." She paused to gather her thoughts. "The thing is, when we were in Vegas, it was awful and crazy and scary, but nothing like that had ever happened to me before, you know and once we were safe, I kind of put it behind me, I guess? And when you called the other night to get rescued from those guys, it was just kind of an adventure. I mean, I saw their guns for a second, but the adrenaline was going and I wasn't thinking clearly… well anyway, I guess it wasn't until I was sitting in Billy's office listening to you last night that I realized," she took a breath. "That's what your life is like _all the time_."

"Not _all_ the time," he protested.

"Okay, maybe not, but when that gun went off… it was scary – scarier than when we were in the middle of it all because I didn't know who'd fired or who was hurt or…"

"Well, you shouldn't have been in there to start with," he said reasonably, "But why would that stop you from taking a simple secretarial job?"

"Because I'd be around that all the time," she answered. "Hearing it second hand, knowing when you were out of the building maybe, but not knowing why. Getting to know other people like Francine and worrying about them too and feeling helpless like I did last night."

"Are you saying you don't want a job or are you saying you don't want me either? Because if we stay together, you're going to worry anyway, aren't you?" he cocked his head and watched her carefully.

"Well, of course I will!" she said. "It's just, well, I guess it's a bit like being married to a policeman or a fireman, isn't it? Their wives worry about them while they're at work, of course, but their wives don't work at the station, do they? Waving their husbands off into danger every day, knowing where they're going?" She twisted her fingers together. "I guess, it's just that it would be one thing to know what you do and another to have to see it every day. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," he said, taking her hand and lifting to kiss her palm. "So you're still willing to keep seeing each other?"

She didn't answer immediately, just wrapped her free hand around his head and drew him in for a long kiss. "I think I just might," she answered softly.


	12. On the Rocks

" _I hate this. I want a divorce_ _." Lee kicked himself as Amanda turned to look at him with a hurt expression on her face and he quickly backtracked_ _. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! But where in the vows does it say I have to make daiquiris?"_

" _Suck it up, Buttercup – this is what authenticity feels like," she hissed back before plastering on a smile and turning back to their guests._

_Lee groaned and turned back to the blender. "Three days. Just three days," he muttered._

This should have been such an easy assignment: they just had to pretend to be married, and they really were married; they just had to be a typical suburban couple and no one was more typically suburban than Amanda…

He looked across the room to where Amanda was smiling and laughing in conversation as she handed out drinks, as if she hadn't been stewing two minutes before the horde had descended. He couldn't even blame her for being ticked off at him – she'd been looking for work for so long and after talking her out of letting Billy hire her, he'd yanked her out of her interview like a crazy person. He had some major making up to do, and just when he'd started to try, the entire neighborhood had waltzed in the front door like clowns packing themselves into a tiny car.

" _What the Sam Hill do you think you're doing? You give me a whole song and dance about not working together and now you want me to pretend to be your wife while I'm still busy pretending NOT to be your wife?"_

" _Amanda, Honey – I'm sorry but it wasn't my idea…"_

" _Of course it wasn't!" she shot back. "It's never your idea, is it? It's always someone else's great idea!"_

" _Amanda, please!"_

_She finally ran out of steam, pulling up on the corner and closing her eyes. She took in a deep breath and turned to look at him. "You know they'll never interview me again, don't you? It took me two preliminary interviews just to get to meet the head of Personnel and now they think I've got a psycho crazy husband even though I said I wasn't married on the application form when I filled it out three weeks ago."_

" _You do have a crazy husband," he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood, but her eyes darkened with annoyance instead._

" _You can't just keep coming and yanking me out of my normal life because you think I'm the easy answer!" Her voice began to rise and they were attracting looks from people passing by. "What did you used to do before good old reliable Amanda came along?"_

_I had a partner, he thought but didn't voice out loud,_ _not wanting her to think he thought of her as a partner that way._

" _I'll fix this, I promise," he said instead. "I'll talk to Billy – maybe there's unclassified stuff you could be doing to help while you look for work, okay? And you know, we_ are _married, I could give you-" he stopped dead as the anger flashed across her face._

" _Do not even think that," she lectured him. "I am not some helpless charity case! I have always looked after my family on my own and I will continue to do so, whether we stay together or not, do you understand? " Her fists were balled at her side and she was leaning toward him chin first while he resisted the defensive urge to step back._

" _I understand. But I really do need you- and they'll definitely pay overtime."_

_She straightened back up and studied him. "Wait – you mean, this is really a job? Not just you asking for a favor again? I'd get paid for this?"_

" _Well, of course, absolutely," he nodded. "_ _That's what I meant about it not being my idea – Billy suggested I ask you._ _Full pay, plus per diems for being away from home, and overtime. It'll be in your bank account before Jamie's birthday."_

" _Oh that_ _'s hitting below the belt_ _, and you know it," she sighed. "Will it be dangerous?" Lee shook his head. "Fine. What do I tell my mother?"_

_Lee frowned. This was definitely an element to bringing Amanda into this that hadn't occurred to him. "Um…our production assistant got sick and I asked if you could come help out?"_

" _You know she'll think I'm just making something up to go away with you, don't you?"_

" _Look at it this way, if she already thinks you're lying, it's almost like you're not really lying to her at all, right?"_

_She shot him another dark look. "You are really hanging on by a thread here, Stetson."_

_He held up his hands in apology. "You're right, I'm sorry and I will make it up to her. And you. Now - can you be ready to go this afternoon? The movers are bringing the stuff to the house at 2."_

_Her mouth fell open. "The movers? The house? What are you talking about? I thought I just had to pretend to be your wife at a conference or something."_

_He winced. "Ah well, see that's why I need you – I have to go undercover in Betsy Ross Estates and Billy thought it would add authenticity if…"_

" _You were married to an authentic housewife?" she finished and he nodded miserably. He could tell she was a little bit hurt by that revelation. "Fine. Good old reliable Amanda will be ready by 2, ready to take up the difficult of role of Mrs. Stetson again."_

" _Mrs. Morton," he corrected her._

" _Mrs. Morton?" she repeated._

" _That's the cover," he explained._

" _Do I get to keep my first name at least?" she sighed._

" _Of course," he nodded._

" _Of course, he says" she scoffed. "Like that's obvious."_

So now here they were, Lee and Amanda Morton, the newest residents of Independence Lane and just as he'd suspected, married life in the suburbs had mostly taken the form of the silent treatment from his annoyed wife.

A silent treatment he was absolutely entitled to, he admitted, since he'd waited until Amanda was at the house to tell her exactly what they were doing there and boy, had that been a mistake.

"Gun runners? Missing women? You said it wasn't going to be dangerous!" she'd jabbed a finger in his chest.

"It won't be!" he'd backpedalled. "We don't even know for sure that the missing woman has anything to do with it – we're just investigating why Harriet Rosemont's name showed up on a packing slip in a compound full of communist rebels."

"A compound full of communist rebels…" she'd repeated in disbelief and not more than thirty seconds later, the doorbell had rung and this whole party had started before he could explain anything else.

Amanda met his eyes across the room, obviously trying to tell him something about the woman she was talking to. He raised an eyebrow and she mouthed _Harriet_ at him. He looked closer at the women she was surreptitiously pointing to; she looked like an ordinary middle-aged woman with too much make-up on, straight out of the DAR and definitely not like anyone who'd be involved with Central American rebels. Lee gave a sigh – this was obviously a dead end – and then the doorbell rang and there was a policeman on the step...

* * *

"Not dangerous he said! Just a few days in the boring suburbs he said!" Amanda was loading the dishwasher with a vehemence that threatened to break more glasses than anything else.

"Amanda, there's no reason to think-"

"Betty Bodeen is dead!" she wheeled around, waving a ladle at him. "Are you're seriously going to try and tell me again that this isn't dangerous?"

"Okay, that's a good point," he admitted. "But Betty didn't have someone like me to protect her, right? So it won't be dangerous for you." She glared at him for a beat, before turning to drop the ladle into the dishwasher and slam it shut.

He walked forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, we can't go and search the Bodeens' house for a few hours – not until we know everyone on the street is asleep. Come upstairs and have a nap with me – we'll be in better shape with some rest."

She jerked away from him and snatched up a dishcloth. "You go up. I'm just going to finish up down here."

"Amanda," he cajoled her. "Come on, it's not even our house – no one will care if we leave watermarks on the tables. Come and relax with me." He stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her. To his dismay, she stayed stiff and unyielding – she never even stopped scrubbing at some invisible mark on the counter.

"This is how I relax," she said tersely. "You go right ahead though."

"Amanda…"

"Go take your nap, Lee. I'll come up when I'm done."

"I know you're mad at me, but please come upstairs. It'll help you calm down and focus, I promise."

"Lee, please! Just leave me be!"

He gave up, letting his arms drop and turning away to trudge upstairs. He waited, listening for her step on the stair, finally letting himself drift off when he realized she wasn't coming.

 _So much for all that "never go to bed angry" thing,_ he mused, half-asleep. _Although I guess if only one of us has gone to bed, that still counts. Or_ _if only one of us is angry, for that matter._


	13. Shaken and Stirred

It was almost 4 am before they got back from dealing with the Agency and the local cops over Frank's death across the street. Amanda was almost stumbling with fatigue as they walked back to their house, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist, and even with everything else that was going on, he couldn't help feeling small measure of relief that she'd reached out for him when it was all over. She was clutching her gloved hands together as if she was trying to hold herself together, but he could feel the way she was shaking against him.

He'd come back downstairs earlier to find her sitting upright in the dark, wrapped in a blanket and had made a miserable attempt at a joke, "You on sentry duty or something?"

"We don't know who killed Betty," she said flatly. "It could be someone from the party tonight. Someone right next door." She looked at him with an expression he couldn't read. "Couldn't it? Any one of these perfectly normal looking people could be a killer, just like Mrs. Welch was."

He crouched down in front of her and took her icy hands in his. "It could be, yes, but that's what we're here to find out and stop right?" he looked her over carefully – it was obvious she hadn't slept at all. "Why don't you stay here and I'll go check the Bodeens by myself."

"No!" The panic flared in her eyes. "No, I'll come with you!" She'd jumped to her feet and held out her hand.

He'd taken it with a smile. "Good – it's nice to have someone watching my tail again."

"Hasn't that been dangerous too?" she asked as they slipped out their front door. "Working alone so much, I mean?"

"Well, it's never ideal," he admitted. "But after Eric died, I just needed some time to work alone. I don't know, it felt like... like I'd gotten used to depending on other people in the field and I needed to sharpen up again, get my edge back."

"Well, I don't think I'm someone you should be depending on me either," muttered Amanda, "so maybe try and keep that in mind."

He slowed and pulled her hand up to kiss it lightly. "I think you're pretty amazing in a crisis actually. But I think we can fairly relaxed about sneaking around an empty house in the middle of suburbia."

Famous last words, he'd think later. The terrified shriek from Amanda had almost stopped his heart and then he'd found himself fighting off masked intruders before he could even find out if she was okay. When he'd finally burst into the kitchen and seen her slumped on the floor in the darkness, he'd thought the worst for one paralyzing minute until she lifted her head and he'd realized she was holding a mortally-wounded Frank in her lap.

It had all been acting by rote after that – calling it in to the Agency, dealing with the cops, answering endless questions – and lying – about why they were there or what they'd seen. The entire street had been up and watching by the end, although Lee noted that Harriet Rosemont was missing among the onlookers – but whether that was because she was involved somehow or because of the number of daiquiris she'd downed earlier that evening remained to be determined.

He paused once they were inside the house, intent on making a note of that and a few other things before he forgot, turning to pull off his coat and throw it over the back of a chair.

"You head up to bed, I'll be there in a second," he said over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen where he knew he'd left his field notebook on the table. He flipped on the light, taken aback for a moment at how sparkling clean it was – how long had Amanda continued to scrub after he'd gone up to bed a few hours before? His notebook and pen had been carefully placed in the middle of the table though, and he grabbed it, grateful that Amanda was such a neat freak. If he'd been at home, he probably would have had to hunt through geologic layers to figure out where it had last landed.

Done with his jotted notes and reminders, he walked back out of the kitchen, flipping the light off and headed for the stairs. It was then that he realized that Amanda was still standing by the front door where he'd left her a few minutes before.

"Amanda?" he asked, concerned at her unnatural stillness. "How come you haven't gone up yet, Honey?"

"I…I c-c-can't" she whispered.

"What do you mean, you can't? You waiting for me to sweep you off like Rhett Butler?" He walked to her, reaching past her to turn on the light and then stepping back to look at her.

"I can't," she whispered again, holding out her hands.

Lee couldn't help taking a step back in horror as he looked down. He realized now that the darkness of her hands as they'd walked wasn't gloves – they were covered in blood. "Oh my God!" He reached for her, taking another beat to realize it was Frank's blood from when she'd been cradling him as he died.

"It's everywhere," she whispered again. "And I can't…"

It was Vegas all over again – Amanda drenched in blood not her own and eyes wide with fear.

Recognizing her paralysis as the onset of shock, Lee carefully wrapped an arm around her and ushered her toward the stairs. "Come on, Hon," he coaxed. "We'll get rid of all that, okay?"

She listlessly allowed him to chivy her along, up the stairs, through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. He grabbed a facecloth and soaked it through before turning and wiping the worst of it off her hands, before gently pushing off her jacket. With a wince, he saw that her shirt was soaked in it too. He unbuttoned it slowly, Amanda doing nothing either to help or hinder him as he pushed it off her shoulders. "I'm just going to throw this away, okay?" he said as he began to scrunch it up to toss in the garbage can.

Seeing his grimace, Amanda looked down at the bloodied bundle and said with almost no expression, "It's okay. Mother told me she never liked that green one anyway."

"Well, that's good then," he said encouragingly. "She's probably right. Do you two shop together usually? I'm surprised she let you buy it if she has such a firm opinion on things like that." He continued to talk nonsense as he crouched down and got Amanda to toe off her shoes, then stood and undid her jeans while she let him undress her, almost like a doll. Her complete silence was unnerving, but eventually he got her stripped down to bra and panties and carefully cleaned all the rest of the blood off her, before guiding her to the bed. "Come on, Honey, there you go," he crooned and watched as she slid obediently between the sheets, until she was resting on the far pillow, watching him unblinkingly as he stripped off his own clothes, down to his boxers and climbed in as well.

"Light off or on?" he asked.

"Off," came the soft answer. "Please."

In the darkness, he reached for her, moving her around until she was the little spoon as he draped his leg over hers to pull her even closer. "Better?" he asked.

"Mmm," came an unconvincing agreement.

She was still trembling, even in the cocoon of his body and blankets and he was fairly certain that she was going to shut him out completely. Instead she began to speak.

"You said it wasn't like this all the time."

"What?"

"When I said your life was like this all the time, you said it wasn't." It was less like an accusation and more like she'd come to some kind of horrible realization - he could hear the tears threatening in the way her voice had gone hoarse.

"It really isn't," he answered. "Honestly, most of the time it's paperwork or meeting up with agents from other countries in seedy bars to negotiate swapping info about some other country."

"Do you think Frank was a spy? Do you think that's why he and Betty were…killed?" He could hear the effort she had to put into enunciating the word.

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out."

"He was in our house. I mean, not our house, but this house. I served him party snacks and daiquiris and a few hours later..."

"I know." He squeezed her a little closer, wishing there was something he could say to dispel the fear, but knowing she had to come to terms with it for herself. "Tell you what – tomorrow, you go home, okay? Tell your family we had to postpone filming for some reason and I said you might as well go home instead of waiting. I won't even have to lie about it to the neighbours – I can just tell them you were upset by everything that happened and you went home to Mother. Just like a regular person."

She twisted in his arms until she was facing him, a tremor of panic on her face. "But what will you be doing? You shouldn't be here by yourself. What if those people come back?"

"I won't be here - I'll be at the Agency, briefing Billy and seeing what we can find out about Frank. He seems pretty squeaky clean, but it can't hurt to look." Lee considered her second point for a moment, then shook his head. "And I don't think they'll be back anyway," he went on. "They were there in the middle of the night too, remember so I don't think they want to be seen. And besides, the police are all over the Bodeens' house – if they were looking for something, they either got it already or they're going to have to give up on finding it until the dust settles."

By the light of the streetlamp between the curtains, he watched her give that some thought and calm down a little. He leaned in to give her a light kiss on the forehead. "Now how about we get some sleep – it's what you need and you tend to stay alive longer that way."

He felt her stiffen and regretted the comment instantly.

"That's not funny," she scowled, drawing back.

"It's not meant to be funny," he said forthrightly. "Sleep helps with your reflexes, your judgement, your emotions – all sorts of stuff that helps you think clearly when you need to. Come here," he tugged her until she was back against him. He tucked his head into the crook of her neck and spoke against her skin. "Now take a deep breath along with me and release it at the same time as me."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What'll that do?"

"It's going to help sync up our breathing and heart rate – it'll help calm us both down." He took in a deep breath to demonstrate and released it slowly against her neck, waiting a beat and then repeating it, relieved when she echoed it. He could feel her carotid pulse thudding against his lips, too fast for someone who wasn't in a fight or flight situation. He repeated the breaths over and over again until he could feel it slow and her body slowly relax.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Good," he murmured. "Now go to sleep, Honey. You're safe here - I won't leave you alone."

Lee could feel the moment she slipped into boneless sleep, but tired as he was, it was much longer before he did the same, gazing at her in the dim light.

How was it possible he'd only know her a few weeks? How had she inserted herself so completely into his life that she was the last voice he wanted to hear at night and the first in the morning? That he wanted to impress her kids, that he was even considering 'normal life' like they were playing at now? And if that was what he wanted, what was he thinking, dragging her into his crazy life time after time? She was right – it was always dangerous, especially when you least expected it to be and she was a mother of two small boys who depended on her. But if he wasn't an intelligence agent, what was he? For the first time in his life, Lee Stetson was absolutely certain about one thing – that he was absolutely uncertain about what he was doing with his life.


	14. Tonic

Lee woke to the sight of Amanda leaning on one elbow, watching him with a worried expression that he immediately wanted to kiss off her –and proceeded to do so, carefully at first, then more thoroughly when she melted into his embrace, matching his fervor.

He leaned back with a grin, running the pad of his thumb across her lip. "I could get used to this," he teased, all his uncertainties of the wee hours gone again.

"Me too," she agreed with a shy smile, before fixing her gaze somewhere around his ear and turning serious again as she combed her fingers through his hair. "Lee, I… I want to say I'm sorry – about last night."

Lee knew his confusion must show on his face. "Sorry for what?"

"For the way I behaved when we got back last night. I don't know what came over me – I mean, it's not like the sight of blood has ever bothered me before – I mean, it just can't, not when you have two boys who are always coming home with scrapes and cuts and whatnot – but I don't know, maybe it was just that I was tired, but I- well, I just couldn't move and it felt like I couldn't breathe and now I just feel so silly…." Her eyes finally came back to meet his, the sorrow visible in them.

"Amanda, stop," he ordered, taking her hand in his to soften the words. "You did nothing to be sorry for. It was a perfectly normal reaction. It happens to people in the field all the time."

"But I froze," she objected. "What if that had happened earlier? What I hadn't managed to yell for you about those guys? What if something had happened to you and I hadn't been able to do anything? I was supposed to be watching your tail and then when it came down to it-" she stopped, the worried expression back on her face.

"But you didn't," he pointed out.

"But I could have."

"But you didn't," he repeated. "Amanda, you might just be the bravest person I've ever met – I wasn't kidding last night about how good you are in a crisis - you have no training, no idea what you're doing and you just throw yourself into stuff on instinct and yet somehow you do the right thing." He propped himself up on his elbow to look her in the eye. "Actually I should be the one apologizing to you. No wait," he stopped her before she could interrupt. "I should have insisted you go talk to someone after Vegas about what had happened, and I meant to after everything that went on with Francine – I said we should talk about it and then we never did. And I should have recognized the signs yesterday when you were angry at me and _why_ you were angry at me when I didn't take you seriously about any danger and I absolutely shouldn't have just assumed you'd have no reaction to Frank dying. You held everything together for way longer than anyone should have been expected to – and you shouldn't have had to and that's my fault." He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, remembering the first time he'd done that, that first night together – or at least the first one they could remember.

"I wasn't brave though – I just had to do something – and then I couldn't anymore," she said, tears threatening in the timbre of her voice.

"But you were brave when it mattered – and then you just had a delayed reaction," he pointed out. "Don't tell me you haven't done the same when Phillip does something dangerous or Jamie hurts himself. Some people freeze up and do nothing, some people don't let it bother them, and some people – most people – they act and it just hits them later. That's all that happened last night – a kind of shellshock. Right?" he cocked his head at her, willing her to see his point.

Amanda nodded, her expression clearing as she understood what he meant. "You're a good man, Lee Stetson," she said, leaning in and beginning to trace her lips across his cheek until she found his lips.

"Not always," he smiled against her mouth as he felt her body begin to warm beneath his hands.

"No?" she questioned, starting to run her own hands over his smooth chest.

"No… Sometimes I'm bad," he chuckled, maneuvering around to undo the clasp of the bra she was still wearing.

"Well, that sounds… great," Amanda sighed, letting him draw her in.

* * *

"Hey, you know what just happened?" he teased her as they half-dozed in each other's arms an hour later, Amanda draped partially across him. "We just had our first fight. As man and wife, that is."

"And our first make-up sex," she agreed, stretching like a cat before settling back on his warmth. "We're almost like a regular married couple now."

He chuckled and pressed a kiss onto her temple. "Regular maybe, but still not normal."

"Well, normal isn't such a bad thing, you know." She lifted her eyes to his from where her chin rested on his chest. "Most people just want to get through a day with healthy kids, friends they can count on, a regular job, and a roof over their heads. It's pretty easy to be content if you don't try too hard."

"I never thought I'd be tempted before I met you," he admitted, "But I think I'm beginning to see the attraction…"

"Of home cooked meals with dessert?" she teased, slapping his chest lightly when he grinned in agreement, before sighing and starting to absentmindedly circle his nipple with her fingertip. "Just like Frank and Betty – you know I just don't think they could have been involved in gun smuggling. He seemed so worried yesterday even before the police came – he hadn't really wanted to come along with Harriet and the others – I think he just couldn't stand to be at home worrying any longer."

"That's the feeling I got too," Lee agreed. "And I think whoever those guys were last night, they were looking for something and Frank just got in their way."

"Poor man," sighed Amanda. "Thank goodness they didn't have any kids – can you imagine how awful it would be for them?" Her head shot up and met his wry grimace with a look of horror. "Oh Lee, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking! I just-"

"I know, I know," he soothed. "And you know what – that's another reason you should go home today. Spend some time with your family and get your head together while I follow up on a few leads. And when I get back to the Agency later, I'm going to set up an appointment for you to talk to one of our shrinks – you should have talked to them after Vegas and you definitely should now."

"Calling them shrinks doesn't exactly suggest you have a lot of faith in them," she said, in a doubt-tinged tone.

"No, no – they're good at this kind of stuff," he reassured her. "I just, well, I'm not a very good patient most of the time is all. Claudia says I'm too ornery for my own good."

"Claudia?"

"Dr. Joyce, I should say. I think you'd like her – very motherly and straightforward. She doesn't let me get away with much bull."

"Another ex-girlfriend at work?" asked Amanda lightly, trying to tamp down on the flare of jealousy she felt.

"Old enough to be my mother," Lee chuckled. "But unlike my exes, she does know all my secrets."

"Well then, I'll look forward to meeting her," Amanda smiled, then frowned. "Except… should I tell her about us?"

Lee leaned back on his pillow, hands behind his head. "That's a good question." He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds while Amanda waited, chewing her lip. "She's smart enough to figure out there's something going on between us, so as far as that's concerned, you can be pretty upfront. And there's doctor-patient confidentiality so she's not going to tell anyone before we do, but…"

"You still don't want anyone to know we're married?" inserted Amanda.

"Yes – but not for the reason you think!" he added quickly. "When I said we should take our time over the annulment, it was because I thought we should see if staying together was something we wanted to pursue, right?" Amanda nodded. "And if we decide it's not going to work out, the fewer people that know the better, don't you think?"

"I thought it's been going pretty well," said Amanda, sounding slightly wistful.

"Oh it has – it definitely has," Lee replied, pulling her down for a kiss that left no doubt of that. "But… the last few days – well, being married to an agent is hard, isn't it? I mean, what if that's too much? Worrying about me all the time? You went into this whole thing not knowing any of that – and I don't have the right to ask you to do that.

"Well, I'll do that anyway, now that I know you- and I didn't marry an agent, I married you."

"Technically you just married a cute guy in a bar, but the thing is, Amanda, I _am_ an agent – that's not just what I do, it's what I am."

"Well, like I said – people marry cops and firemen all the time and they handle it," she said, then added firmly, "And if they can handle it, so can I."

"You really are amazing, you know that?" he grinned at her. "Now how about we get showered and you can pretend to run home to Mother while I run down the bad guys."

"A regular shower or one of your only-five-minutes-extra special showers?" she teased.

"Well we're not in a rush, so I think we have enough time for me to give you ten extra minutes," Lee replied, eyebrows waggling.

"Well, thank you so much," Amanda murmured.

"But I'll only need five," he added smugly.

A beat later, a pillow walloped him in the face and he was left scrambling to chase a laughing Amanda into the bathroom.


	15. Mother's Little Helper

**Chapter 15: Mother's Little Helper**

* * *

"It's a pity you didn't get to spend more time with Lee, seeing what he does on a set," mused Dotty as they wandered through the grocery store. She glanced ahead at the boys to make sure they were far enough ahead not to hear her. "Although I'm sure staying in the "editing room" until all hours the other night was educational."

"Mother!" Amanda looked around, before continuing in a scandalized whisper. "We were at his office!"

"That's never stopped anyone, Dear," smirked Dotty. "Where there's a will, there's a way. And don't tell me there's no will - I have known you since you were teensy. I know when your fires are fanned!"

Amanda rolled her eyes and tried to change the subject. "Do we need more Frosted Flakes? I think we should get some just in case." She reached for a box and put it in the cart, stopping to rearrange things so that she wasn't looking at her mother. "And remind me to get extra milk too. The boys are drinking so much of it these days."

"Amanda, you were never good at using distraction as a technique to lie to me and your father," Dotty teased her. "I'm sure you saw a whole new side of Lee helping him the other night."

"Well, not the side you're sounding so certain of, but I think I've seen enough of his job now," Amanda sighed, resigned to the interrogation. "I think he was probably kind of relieved when he had to send me home today after all."

"Now I'm sure that's not true, Amanda." Dotty paused and lifted a brow as Amanda gave out a huff of frustration. "Trouble in paradise, Darling? Now come on, what could have been so bad in one day?"

"I just… I was trying to help, I really was, and I think I was doing a pretty good job, you know?" Amanda felt her way through, trying to describe it without outright lying to her mother. "But it was a bit more… difficult than he'd described and Lee was all "oh, stop worrying, it'll be fine" and I wasn't so sure, but you know, he wanted my help, so I kept trying to do my best…" She gave a little shrug. "But then, well, a bunch of little things built up and I just got overwhelmed and suddenly it was like I couldn't do _anything_."

"We've all had days like that, Amanda, especially in a new job. You can't expect to be instantly capable of doing something you've never done before."

"But he asked me to help because he thought I _was_ capable, Mother, and then I let him down. I think he's really disappointed in me."

"Really?" asked Dotty with a skeptical look. "Because I simply don't believe that – a blind man could see that man thinks you're wonderful."

"Well, I wasn't very wonderful last night," grumbled Amanda. "And don't say it, Mother!" she added immediately seeing Dotty start to smile. "I meant on our job! And the worst part was that he didn't even get mad, he just said it wasn't my fault and he'd handle it on his own after all – like he was blaming himself for me being useless."

"Amanda, do you remember what you were like when Phillip was a baby? You were the most natural mother I'd ever seen, so calm and intuitive and loving…"

"Well, thank you," said Amanda suspiciously. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"Do you remember your first week at home with him?" asked Dotty.

"Some of it, but most of it was a blur," said Amanda. "I don't think I slept a wink."

"I don't think you did either. You were trying to keep everything normal for Joe with dinner on the table every night and doing the laundry and still getting up three times a night to feed the baby and by the fourth day, you were calling me in tears because you'd left a red shirt in the washer and your white wash had just come out pink and it was the end of the world and you thought maybe you should just give Phillip up for adoption so he'd have a better mother."

"I'm sure this is going somewhere, Mother," said Amanda wryly.

"Well, you got past that, didn't you? You just had to find your rhythm and figure out your priorities and learn the job as you went – and it's the same with this. You and Lee are still in your honeymoon period – literally – and then to add a job on top of that, even if it was just to help out, well, you're just trying to learn so many things at once, no wonder you're feeling scrambled!"

"I suppose," said Amanda, voice tinged with doubt.

"But obviously Lee sees something you can do that helps him. I mean, he asked you to come along the other night just to talk to, didn't he? Maybe you're not going to be an amazing editor or production assistant or whatever it is he asked you to do, but maybe he just needs a sounding board he trusts? Someone who has his back?"

"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Amanda. "And I did help him on some other stuff as well and he was grateful for that."

"Well, there you go. All jobs have something about them that are hard to learn, but you just keep doing it, don't you? Until it gets easier, I mean?"

"Yes, you do." Amanda lifted her hand and absently chewed a cuticle. "And Lee did say he'd get me some help – someone to talk about how to deal with the hard parts, I mean."

Dotty pulled Amanda's hand away from her mouth with a slightly scolding look. "See? He trusts you to be able to help, even when you've been thrown in the deep end, but even he knows you need to have had some swimming lessons. And I'm sure he's not disappointed in you - you're just projecting your own doubt into it. You just need to get right back up on that horse, Amanda. I mean, it's not like you to walk away from a project before it's done and it's hardly your fault that the equipment broke down or whatever, is it? You should call and tell him that you still want to help, even if you don't end up doing anything. Call it on the job training, like an intern."

"Maybe you're right," agreed Amanda. "Maybe I should just go back and, I don't know, just keep him company, make sure he eats breakfast, that sort of thing."

"Most people would have said 'dinner' in that sentence," teased Dotty, "but then again, Lee Stetson at a breakfast table would be a reason to get up every day."

"Mother! Honestly, I think you're more in love with Lee than I am some days!"

Dotty stopped dead, hand on Amanda's arm. "Aha! So you _are_ in love with him!"

"I didn't say that!"

"Didn't you?" Dotty cocked her head and gave Amanda a sly smile. "And what's more, he's in love with you too. Like I said, anyone can see that."

"He's… I'm… We're not there yet," Amanda defended herself feebly. "We're still just figuring that part out."

Dotty couldn't hold in her laughter as she turned the cart down another aisle. "Married, dating and still figuring that part out! Oh Amanda, this story just keeps getting better and better!"

Amanda did the rest of the shopping in a bit of a daze, questions tumbling through her mind as she considered everything her mother had just said. Had she really just cut and run the second things got difficult? Lee did say that everyone needed help to get used to the things that happened in this kind of work so maybe she hadn't really overreacted? And she had been able to help when it mattered, hadn't she? Yes maybe he'd treated her like a child last night but he'd never said anything that felt like he'd thought she was being silly, had he? He hadn't been angry or annoyed or taken out his frustrations on her – and heavens knew she'd seen that side of him the other night after they'd arrested Mrs. Welch. And he'd definitely made it clear that his feelings hadn't changed this morning when they'd… Amanda felt her body flush with heat and looked around with embarrassment as if she thought the other shoppers could tell that she was thinking about what they'd done in the shower earlier.

_He loves you too – anyone can tell that._

Did he really? They barely knew each other and it was ridiculous to think he could, and yet, she already knew that she felt more for him than she'd felt in a long time – and certainly a lot more than she'd ever felt for Dean. Boy, now that was a bullet she'd dodged, for sure.

Even using that phrase in her own head made her wince. She'd been so angry at Lee yesterday and he'd been so kind about it. It wasn't his fault that a routine day in the suburbs had turned into the crazy night they'd had – and he _had_ offered to help her find someone to talk to right after they got home from Vegas and she'd been the one to say she didn't need it.

 _Yes_ , she decided, as she paid for the groceries by rote, half an ear listening to her Mother's stories from her bridge club. _Mother's right – take the help, get back up on the horse, and see through this case for him_. She knew he'd praised her to Mr. Melrose and maybe that was another reason Billy had suggested her as his helper – so she couldn't just bail out and leave him looking foolish, could she?

She was so busy talking herself into going back that she was almost run over when Harriet Rosemont pulled her car up in front of them and began to ramble on and on about Betty and Frank while Dotty watched the entire thing slack-jawed.

"Well, she must have just thought I was someone else," Amanda said, trying to look innocent and hoping that just this once, her mother would be fooled by distraction. "I guess I just have one of those faces."

"You are definitely one of those people that other people open up to," agreed Dotty as they began to load the bags. "You'd probably make a wonderful policewoman, getting people to confess to crimes just because they like you. Or a spy! You'd be like a cross between Pollyanna and Mata Hari, luring men to bed and letting them confess their deepest darkest secrets as pillow talk. Now _that_ is a novel I'd read!"

"Me too," said Amanda. "And thank you? I think? Pollyanna and Mata Hari? Really?" She shook her head as her mother laughed.

"Well, think of it this way, if working with Lee doesn't work out, being a spy can be your backup plan," chortled Dotty.

"Oh Mother." _If you only knew._

That's when it hit her – what she could do to help Lee.

"You know Mother, I think once we get home and get this unloaded, I'm going to go back up on that horse, just like you said."

"I think that's an excellent idea, Amanda."


	16. Moonshine Sonata

Lee pulled up in front of the house and drummed the steering wheel as he stared at the front door. He'd spent the morning running checks on Harriet Rosemont and her friends and come up blank, but something was bothering him – something about the connection between these women and hair dryers and gun runners and well, hell, none of it made any sense. And what was bothering him now was that he had to go walk into an empty house and start to play the guy whose wife had left him.

He'd been alone for years, revelled in it really, knowing that at the end of the day he didn't have to answer to anyone and yet here he was, itchy under his skin because there was no one home for him - in a house he didn't even really live in and that was only empty because he'd sent Amanda home to her real family. It wasn't even like she was really gone – he could drive over to Arlington right now and be welcomed into her house with open arms – except that he couldn't, of course. He had to stay and play this cover and go into _this_ house and sleep in _that_ bed alone, when it probably still smelled of her perfume and their lovemaking.

With a sigh, he unfolded himself from the Porsche and headed up the front path, pulling out his key and letting himself in. Years of using his sixth sense told him almost before he was in the door that there was someone there – some tiny gust of air, some slight sound, a scrape, a footfall maybe – and he was instantly on alert.

"Is that you, Sweetheart?" a voice called from the kitchen – and he could actually feel the gush of relief and joy flood through his body. He strode across the hall and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Amanda was standing at the island, making a sandwich. She looked up with a welcoming smile. "You want one? I picked us up some more supplies while I was shopping with Mother this morning."

"You're here," he stated stupidly. "I thought you'd gone home."

"Well, I did," she shrugged. "And then I got to thinking about how you and Mr. Melrose both thought it was important that you have someone here who understood about life out here beyond the Beltway and how you said you liked having someone to watch your tail and I just… came back." She gave him an inquisitive look. "That's okay, isn't it?"

His smile couldn't have been brighter as he walked forward to swing her into his arms. "More than okay," he answered, bending to kiss her.

She let herself melt into it, relieved that he was as happy to see her as she was to be back. Eventually though she pulled away and jabbed her index fingers into his chest. "And I found out something interesting!"

"Interesting how?" he asked, grinning at her enthusiasm as he grabbed her hands and brought her jabbing fingers up to his lips for a kiss.

"Well, Mother said something about how I'm one of those people that other people talk to – and I thought maybe I could use that to see if anyone knew what Betty and Frank were involved in. You know, get them to gossip instead of interrogating them like the police do... Because people will always tell you way more if they think they have dirt on someone, you know? So, I came back and just by luck, the first person I saw was Harriet. She was having lunch down at that place by the park and well, I say she was having lunch but really she was just day-drinking-"

"Day drinking? What's that?"

Amanda gave him an exasperated look at the interruption. "It's exactly what it sounds like. She was knocking back vodka tonics like they were part of the Scarsdale Diet. Anyway, she was telling me all about how she and her friends sell Connie Beth cosmetics and how she's a Golden Circle girl – and so was Betty. And that she thought it was something Betty did with her Golden Circle sales that got her killed."

Lee settled back against the island and positioned Amanda between his legs with his hands on her hips. "Oh yes? And what do Golden Circle girls do? Because there's a massage parlor in Saigon that offered something that sounded just like that."

"Lee!" Amanda slapped his chest in outrage, although he could tell he'd almost made her laugh with that one. "Get your mind out of the gutter, will ya? Golden Circle women deal with special VIP clients and even though she was three sheets to the wind, Harriet still wouldn't tell me exactly what it was that Betty did that got her in trouble – she seemed really frightened."

"Special VIP clients?" repeated Lee doubtfully. "This is starting to sound more and more like that massage parlor."

"Not that kind of client," Amanda lectured him with a slight eyeroll at his one-track mind. "These clients are out of the country and she said the one is third-world places were especially appreciative of things like electric rollers and curling irons and…"

"Hair dryers?" he filled in, eyes widening.

"Hair dryers," she repeated triumphantly. "And what's more, Judy Wainwright just stopped by to bring us a housewarming meatloaf – and she told me that she brought it now because she was going to be busy all day doing her Connie Beth deliveries and complaining about how long the post office lines can be when she's trying to do all her overseas shipments! What do you think?"

"That I have a 1977 Beaujolais Nouveau back at my apartment that would go really well with meatloaf." Lee just couldn't help pretending to misunderstand – she looked so pleased with herself like she'd solved the whole thing, bouncing on her toes, her eyes sparkling with glee.

"Lee!"

"Okay, okay – I'm just kidding. I'll go follow Judy and see what I can figure out there. What are you going to do with the rest of your day? I was going to ask if you needed me to pick something up for dinner, but now that we've got housewarming meatloaf…"

"I bet mine's better. Anyway I'm going to finish putting up those new curtains and then I'm going with Harriet to the Connie Beth sales meeting at their headquarters. Who knows, maybe I'll see something useful there too."

He looked around, noticing the changes in the kitchen for the first time. "You've been decorating? Amanda, it's not even our house!"

She shrugged. "I'm here to make us look authentic, right? And that's what women do in the first few days in a new house – we make it a home. So if anyone drops by, I'll look like exactly what I am – a normal person doing normal things."

"That's amazing," he shook his head. "You're doing things by intuition that they wouldn't even think to teach in an Agency course."

"Well, maybe I should apply to teach some of those courses," she teased. "Sounds like they need someone like me and I bet it would pay better than the steno pool."

Lee straightened up and gave her another light kiss. "I'll suggest that to Billy when I see him later," he joked. "We could call it 'Decorating for Deception'."

"Or 'Suburban Style for Spies'" Amanda laughed.

"Curtains: Chintz or Iron?"

"Upholstery for Undercover?"

Lee's breath caught at the way her face was alight with laughter at the repartee. "I'm glad you're here," he said simply, lifting his hand to brush his fingers across the dimples in her cheeks and watched her blush.

"I'm glad I'm here too," she bobbed her head, suddenly shy. "Now come on. I'll make you a sandwich and then we can go catch those bad guys."


	17. It's 5 O'clock Somewhere

Even out of the corner of his eye, he knew from the way she was prowling toward him that Francine was working up to something. He kept his eyes down to hide his smile – she'd been so subdued ever since that run-in with Mrs. Welch and, although he'd done his best to treat her as he'd always done, teasing her and complaining about how she made terrible coffee, this was the first sign he'd seen that she was getting some of her fight back.

"So, how is married life treating you, huh? Dinner at six? Dishes at seven? TV till nine?"

He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering, almost straight-faced. "Bed."

Francine's mouth actually dropped open. "Bed?"

"Well, me and the little lady want to have kids, you know - six or seven, at least."

"Children? It's worse than I thought," Francine shook her head sadly.

Lee glanced up with a dimpled grin. "Well, trying for them is more fun than having them, sure, but you know, Francine, I've gained a lot of respect for the generosity and . . . stamina of the American housewife." It was the truth, although she didn't know it. He could hear Billy wheezing over on the couch and knew he was enjoying seeing the old Francine back too.

"You're disgusting," she spat out before turning away.

"Disgustingly brilliant, you mean," he answered, beckoning Billy over. "Now, what do you see here?"

"Hair dryer parts," Billy answered. "So?"

Lee rearranged the pieces. "And now?"

"That's a gun," said Billy, stunned.

"Exactly," said Lee. "Connie Beth: prime suppliers of blushes and bullets to an unfriendly government near you."

Billy didn't waste any time. "Francine, start pulling together personnel – we need to get over to the Connie Beth HQ right now and tear that place apart before even one more shipment makes it out of there."

Francine moved swiftly to the door, all business now, starting to bark orders the second she reached the bullpen.

"And you say Mrs. King figured this out?" Billy asked turning back to Lee with an incredulous expression. "How on Earth did she manage that?"

"Well, she made friends with everyone on the street in the first two minutes," Lee laughed, "And then she wrangled herself into the clique that sells Connieohmygod!" All the words ran together as it suddenly hit him.

"Where are you going?" asked Billy, startled when he jumped up from behind the desk and headed for the door. "I'll need you to lead a team!"

"Amanda's at Connie Beth right now," he answered over his shoulder. "Right in a nest of killers."

"We'll be ten minutes behind you!" Billy hollered at him as he left the bullpen. "Go get her out of there!"

Lee didn't need to be told twice as he began to run down the hall to the elevator.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Lee was running his hands over her, partially to check that she really was undamaged from either bullets or that insane ride from the roof on a wrecking ball, but also just to calm himself.

"Oh, I'm… I'm… yes," Amanda answered unsteadily.

"You're sure?" Lee pulled her into his embrace and wrapped his arms around her in relief that they'd made it out of that.

"I'm sure," she answered, her voice muffled against his chest, and the way she was clinging to him suggesting that she might not be altogether telling the truth or that she was trying to convince herself. "I'm really . . . I'm all right." She drew in a deep calming breath, then lifted her head and stared at him in wonder. "So, what the heck was in those hair dryers, anyway?"

Lee gave a bark of laughter at the way she zeroed straight back on the matter at hand. "Oh, nothing much – just the terrorist guns we were after. Look, you want to get a drink? I'll tell you all about it."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," she answered in a shaky voice. "I'm beginning to understand the appeal of daydrinking."

"Well, we can't indulge too much," he grinned as he turned to guide her back to where he'd left the Porsche parked haphazardly. "We should probably be sober for our debrief with Billy." He looked over at the horde of agents swarming out of cars and vans and heading into the building. "But then again – he's going to be a while. And speaking of Harriet." He nudged her to make her look toward the front door where Harriet was being led out of the building, talking a mile a minute until she caught sight of them and stopped dead.

"Oh Amanda! Thank goodness! I was so worried when all those gunshots started going off right after you left! Can you believe it? That nice Mr. Bouchard! Well, his mother will be just spinning in her grave! And I'm sure I don't know what I'm going to do with all my Connie Beth merchandise!" She paused, looking horror struck. "I mean, I might have to become Lovely Lady lady!"

"Oh I don't know," said Lee with only a slight smile. "After all this, that Connie Beth stuff is going to be collector's items. You might be sitting on a small fortune."

Harriet stared at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"That's right," said Amanda encouragingly. "And I'm sure the TV people will be dying to interview people who were inside when it all happened. I can see the headlines: True crime stories from the people who experienced it." She shook her head as if disappointed. "Such a shame Lee came by to pick me up when he did – we missed the whole thing."

Harriet shot her a calculating look. "The whole thing? You didn't see anything?"

"Oh no," Amanda said cheerfully. "I always miss all the excitement. Would you believe I was late for my own surprise party once? Nope, I'll just have to hear all about it from you when the evening news gets hold of you. I imagine you'll have quite the story to tell"

"Well," said Harriet, starting to preen a little bit. "I do have a lot of inside information I could share – what with having been a Golden Circle girl for so long."

Lee exchanged a look with the agent accompanying her, who immediately took her by the elbow. "Well, Mrs. Rosemont was it? Uncle Sam is pretty interested in hearing those stories too, so if you'd like to come along with me…" He led her away, tossing a wink over his shoulder at Lee and Amanda.

"Oh Fred, if you only knew how boring those stories are going to be," grinned Lee as he guided Amanda back in the direction of the car.

"But she'll enjoy telling them," Amanda reprimanded him. "It's her moment in the sun."

"Her break from boring normality?" he asked, opening the door and helping her into the passenger seat. He walked around and got in as well, then started to laugh. "I can't believe you just told her you always miss all the excitement!"

Amanda turned to him and began to laugh too. "Well, I could hardly tell her I was upstairs hanging off construction equipment with bullets whizzing past my head, could I? She'd have been so disappointed!"

Lee shook his head, amazed as always at her quirky take on things. He finally managed to get his laughter under control and pull away from the curb. "You are one in a million, Amanda King."

They drove in silence for a few blocks, just far enough to go to a bar Lee knew that had quiet booths in dark corners where they could decompress without attracting attention. Lee collected their drinks from the bar and brought them back to the booth, sliding in beside her and pulling her close, finally allowing himself to relax that she really was safe and sound and snuggling against him comfortably.

"You know, I will never be able to look at a can of hairspray the same way again," he said finally, starting to shake with laughter.

"I don't think Bobby will ever be able to see _anything_ the same way again," said Amanda, dissolving into her own whoops. "That stuff is lethal! I can't believe I did that!"

"Moving your way up to tweezers!" Lee gasped out, before closing his eyes and almost doubling up, still clutching her close. "Genius!"

"I got that the wrong way around," said Amanda, forcing down her laughter and trying to look serious. "I mean, lipstick is obviously where the real money is because it runs out." She gave a little hiccup of laughter. "Unless you count the gun smuggling, of course."

"Well, you were right about one thing," said Lee. "That performance was worth diamonds and furs - you were... well, you were amazing just like always." he drew her closer to kiss her temple.

"Oh well," said Amanda ducking her head and blushing. "I didn't do much - I just followed your lead... I'm just glad I could help." She snuggled in closer, twisting her finger in one of the buttonholes of his suit absentmindedly.

"I'm really sorry," he said after another quiet moment.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, sitting up and looking at him with honest confusion

"I kept promising you this wasn't going to be dangerous and the next thing I know, we're in another gunfight."

"Well, that's nothing to be sorry for – you were trying to get me out of a gunfight, not start one."

"Yeah, but after everything we talked about this week and the promises I made…"

"Lee, stop," Amanda shifted so she could put her hand on his cheek. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Are you?" he asked, searching her eyes.

"I am," she answered. "Really."

"Well, it's the last time I'm ever dragging you into something like that, I promise. And I'll go to Honeycutt Typewriters and explain that you were helping your country or something so that they interview you again."

"Actually, I'd rather you didn't," Amanda admitted with a trace of embarrassment. "I know I said I was mad at you for yanking me out of there – and I was a bit, because I was really certain I'd get the job – but the truth is, that guy who was interviewing me? He was… creepy. He was asking all these personal questions and looking at me like…ugh." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "I don't think I would have taken that job, even if they'd offered it."

"That son of a-" Lee straightened up, ready to go fight that guy right now.

"Oh, I've had worse," said Amanda, tugging him back down. "It's kind of par for the course in most places – but part of me was really glad to see you come through that door if I'm honest."

"Really?"

"Really."

Lee studied her for a moment before giving a dimple-cracking grin. "Which part of you was happiest to see me?"

Amanda groaned and dropped her head back against his shoulder. "You are _incorrigible_. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because I'm cute?"

"You're not that cute," she answered, but she was working pretty hard to hide her own smile.

"So what will you do for work then?" he asked, tucking her back under his arm and picking up his drink. "I can get Billy to write you a recommendation, although it might be a bit heavy on your excellent flying skills."

"Well, about that," Amanda began carefully. "I was thinking – and if you think it's a bad idea you can say so – but I was wondering if I could reconsider that whole working-for-the-Agency thing."

"Really?" Lee was surprised. "I thought you said you didn't think you'd want to be around me when I'm working – that it would be too stressful. And you've already seen I'm not always the nicest guy to be around when I'm concentrating on a case."

"I did say that, and it would be a little stressful," she answered. "But the thing I've realized is – well, people like Mrs. Welch and Bobby Bouchard? They take advantage of people like me, people like Harriet and Betty and Frank and my mother. Regular trusting people who are just living regular lives and never doing any harm to anyone and all this made me realize there are people who use that trust to do terrible things."

Lee nodded. "Yes, there are."

"And when I talked to Mother this morning, after all our fights yesterday and my little overreaction, well, I just realized that I…I don't think I want go sit on the sidelines and watch while those people do those things. I want to help stop them before they hurt people who have never done a thing to them. And maybe my part isn't going to be very important, just typing up your notes or whatever, but I want to help make the world a better place for my family. For everybody's family. Does that make sense?"

Lee nodded again. "It does. That's why most of us get in the business really. And if we come clean to Billy about Vegas, your security clearance won't be a problem." He went silent and gave it some thought. "Let me talk to him – I'm sure he can find you something even if it's only part time for now – I think you're pretty much past the worst part of the interview process."

"I am?" her eyes sparkled up at him. "What was it? The flying? The putting up with grumpy agents? Making his coffee just the way he likes it?"

"All that –and Mrs. Marston smiles when she says your name. Trust me, you're a dead cert."


	18. A Moment of Rash Sobriety

For the second time in her life, Amanda opened her front door to find a grinning Lee Stetson on her doorstep, waving a piece of paper at her.

"It's déjà vu all over again," she quipped. "What is that? Our annulment?"

Lee gave her a pained look but couldn't hold back his grin for long. "Nope! Something better – it's your official offer of employment at the Agency."

"Really?" she squealed, grabbing it out of his hand. "That fast?"

"Like I said, Billy really wanted to hire you, so once I said you were interested after all, he did it fast so you wouldn't have time to change your mind." He watched as she skimmed the letter, smile lighting up her face. "Now, you still have to clear the security stuff and you probably won't be doing anything as exciting as you're used to, hanging out with me…"

"I can live with boring for a while, I think," she sighed with pleasure and clutched it to her chest. "It's just so nice to think that the biggest excitement in my life is that my mortgage payment won't send me into overdraft." Her face turned serious and she glanced over her shoulder to see if her family was in earshot. "So does that mean Mr. Melrose knows then? About us, I mean?"

"Ah, well that's the best part," Lee grinned. "When I started to talk to him about your security clearance, using it as an opening, well before I could even get far, he said 'Well, Lee, why don't you just do all the family checks since you seem to want to get to know her better' and I know he thinks he's yanking my chain, but…"

"But you're part of my family check!" she pointed out with concern.

"I know – but that's when I realized I could just put myself way down the list, just bury it in among your mother and the boys and your ex-husband with a nice big checkmark and it would just get filed with no one the wiser for now, because no one will look past my recommendation on the first page. It's perfect - we're not really lying because I happen to know that your husband has a very clean record and nothing that would impede you getting your clearance." His eyes were dancing with such humor that she couldn't help grinning back at him.

"You just can't help living dangerously, can you?" she asked in mock despair.

"Not always - but you make me want to try," he answered, a shade more seriously.

Amanda looked up at him, an arrested expression on her face as she took that in. Finally she reached up and gently brushed his hair off his forehead, before cupping his cheek. "Well, don't get too safe – I kinda like my wild wolf prince."

Lee turned his head and kissed her palm. "Oh, I think it'll take a while to tame me – I've been running wild for a long time, you know."

"So what now?" she asked. "We work together, we work on this…" She motioned back and forth between them.

"We work, we play, we take it one day at a time," he answered. "But right now? I have to go to work."

"You do?" Amanda couldn't hide her disappointment.

"Yep. I have to go interview a certain Mrs. Dotty West about every little detail of her daughter's sordid past to make sure she's not a risk to her country, even just as a lowly member of a government agency steno pool."

The sparkle in his eyes was matched by Amanda's. "Well, this is your lucky day – I just happen to know where to find her."

"You do?" Lee shook his head in amazement. "You always know what just I need, don't you?"

"I try," she nodded, sliding her hand around his neck and tipping up on her toes to kiss him. "And you know what you need right now, Loverboy? A little sugar," she murmured against his lips in a sultry tone.

"What?" he murmured back, fairly certain that she couldn't mean what it sounded like, not with her family in the next room.

"I just pulled a poppyseed cake out of the oven," her laugh puffed out. "Come and eat some before you go to work - I can't let you interview my mother on an empty stomach." She tugged him toward the family room, Lee following all too willingly.

"Yes, Dear."


End file.
